PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

NEW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO 
SAN FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN & CO., Limited 

LONDON • BOMBAY • CALCUTTA 
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THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. 

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PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

APPLIED TO PRACTICE 



BY 



W. FRANKLIN JONES, Ph.D. 

HEAD OF DEPARTMENT OF THEORY AND PRACTICE IN THE 

MARYLAND STATE NORMAL SCHOOL, BALTIMORE, 

MARYLAND 



Nefo gorfc 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

1911 

All rights reserved 



' 



^ \0 C 



Copyright, 1911, 
By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. 



Set up and electrotyped. Published May, 1911. 










J. 8. Cushing Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. 
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 



©GU28T>820 



PREFACE 

This is the day of pedagogical unrest. The history 
of education has never found a time when the struggle 
(i) to derive sound educational theory, and (2) to realize 
that theory in actual practice, was so keen as at the 
present time. Strangely enough, one of our most seri- 
ous problems has been to get a proper orientation by 
first defining the aim of education. This is one problem 
in which our unrest is rooted. 

Specialists of recent years have offered us a multi- 
tude of definitions of education in attempts to fix the 
aim, only to meet the persistent criticism from teachers 
that " the definitions are not practical." Many of these 
formulations have really been too magnificent to stand 
the wear of service, others have been as intangible as 
indefinite, while still others undoubtedly would have 
proved satisfactory to teachers had there been some 
one at hand in sufficiently close touch with both theory 
and practice to have worked out the aim in terms of 
actual teaching experience. The fact is, theory and 
practice can never unify until, among other things, 
our statement of the aim of education is worked out 
in terms of actual teaching. This is a second problem 
in which our unrest is rooted. 



VI PREFACE 

A third problem, well related to the other two, is 
confronting us. Teachers are in need of guiding lines, 
of sound theory in the form of fundamental principles 
upon which they may build practice. In no other way 
can practice be unified, yet progressive and safe. 
Here arises the question, Have we a system of prin- 
ciples which we may say constitutes a science of edu- 
cation ? The fact is, educators hesitate to say that 
we have a science of education. We have discovered 
many principles of education, specialists talk about 
principles, and we have books on principles, but our 
serious need now is the definite statement of these 
principles and their organization into a system that 
may be realized in the schoolroom. This is a third 
problem in which our unrest is rooted. 

It is a significant fact that the very expression 
"principle of education" has astonishingly little mean 
ing to the great body of our teachers. What we may 
call our science of education, then, with all its imper- 
fections, is far in advance of the teaching art ; and our 
educational advance is actually waiting on the unifica- 
tion of our science and our art. This unification must 
wait, in turn, on those workers in the field of education 
who are in close touch with both theory and practice. 
We have a right to look to the Normal School, first of 
all, to solve this problem ; for it is the very Normal 
School Idea in essence. It is a serious task; but 
progress lies behind it. 



PREFACE Vll 

With full recognition, then, of the magnitude of the 
undertaking, and with quite as full recognition of my 
own limited abilities, the preparation of this volume 
has been dominated by a threefold purpose already 
suggested; namely, (i) to state the aim of education 
in a form at once suggestive and tangible to teachers ; 
(2) to work out that aim in terms of actual schoolroom 
experiences; and (3) to give definite yet simple state- 
ments of a group of principles of education, and to 
reveal them as they are to be found in concrete in the 
schoolroom. 

For much that may be found of value in this book, 

I freely express my obligations to a group of educators, 

my teachers in the main, especially to Professors John 

Dewey, E. L. Thorndike, Henry Suzzallo, George D. 

Strayer, William James, and Hugo Miinsterberg. The 

book reveals clear traces of John W. Cook, Charles A. 

McMurry, Arnold Tompkins, David Felmley, and so 

on to the end. The element of " reference " in the 

three forms of conscious activity was suggested to me 

in a series of Illinois lectures by Dean Thomas M. 

Balliet, of the School of Pedagogy of the University 

of New York; and for suggestions from sources too 

numerous to mention individually, I am indebted to 

writers upon educational problems. 

W. F. J. 

State Normal School, 

Baltimore, May, 1911. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 

CHAPTER I 
The Meaning of Education 

PAGE 

The Aim of Education . . ' I 

The Values of Life I 

The Place of Experience in the Educative Process ... 3 

CHAPTER II 
The Subjects of Study 

The Nature Study Group 17 

Nature Study 17 

Geography 19 

The Biological Studies 22 

The Social Studies 25 

History . . 25 

Literature . . .31 

The Formal Studies 40 

Language . . 41 

Grammar 45 

Reading .... * 48 

Writing 53 

Arithmetic 62 

Spelling . . .68 

is 



X TABLE OF CONTENTS 

CHAPTER III 
Motivation 

PAGE 

Human Instincts 84 

The Motivating Process 130 

CHAPTER IV 
Utilization of the Play Impulse 



The Psychological Aspects of the PlayiMovement 

The Intellectual Aspect of Play 

Emotional, Moral, and Social Aspects of Play 
The Pedagogical Aspect of Play 
Values in Some of the Common School Games 

CHAPTER V 



137 
143 
144 
146 
150 



The Teacher an Influence 

Sources of Influence 162 

Punishment 178 

CHAPTER VI 
Methods 

Methods of Dealing with Apperception . . . . .188 

The Objective Method .189 

The Illustrative Method 191 

The Laboratory Method 192 

Methods of Dealing with Memory 196 

Methods of Dealing with Imagination . . . . .210 

Methods of Dealing with Reasoning 233 

Inductive Reasoning 234 

Deductive Reasoning 235 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 



XI 



The Forms of Instruction 
The Telling Method 
The Development Method 
Forms of Development 
Inductive Method 

Formal Steps of Induction 
The Lesson Assignment 
Deductive Method 

Deduction in Geometry 
Deduction in Arithmetic 
Questioning 
Methods of Training Will 



PAGE 
236 

237 
241 

243 
244 
248 
254 
256 
257 
258 
264 
266 



CHAPTER VII 

Professional Criticism 281 

Index 291 



PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

CHAPTER I 
THE MEANING OF EDUCATION 

The Aim of Education 

Education is the direction of the experience of an 
individual with the aim of making him willing and able 
to realize the values of life. 

It is the purpose of this book to work out this aim of 
education. 

The Values of Life 

A child who is curious to know a bird in a cage opens 
the door of the cage, and the bird escapes and is gone. 
The mother appears on the scene, and the child is ar- 
raigned. Now our child may not be an ordinary child ; 
but standing there self-convicted, yet hard-pressed for 
a way to escape impending punishment, he wills and is 
able to answer, "It was I." Such a child the whole race 
values ; for he is a bearer of truth, and truth is valued 
by every one. Briefly told, truth is a value of life. 

A farmer appears on a grain dealer's scales with a 



2 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

load of grain. The dealer weighs the grain, accepts it, 
pays for it, and the farmer is gone. Presently the 
dealer discovers that his scales were in error, and that 
he underpaid the farmer for his grain. Now that grain 
dealer may not be an ordinary dealer, but he dispatches 
a messenger who overtakes the farmer and pays him in 
full for the grain. Such a dealer the whole race values ; 
for he is honest in his dealings, and honesty is valued 
by every one. Briefly told, honesty is one of the values 
of life. 

It is hardly to the purpose here to catalogue the values 
of life, for their name is legion. Life is not mean and 
narrow, but rich and full of possibilities to realize values. 
The purpose here is rather to lay the foundation for a 
principle which will serve as a standard for judging 
whether or not a given end is a life value. We all 
value life, we all value progress, morality, social effi- 
ciency, happiness, the ideals of beauty and truth and 
harmony and religion, and so on to the end. Though 
we may not always act in accordance with these values, 
yet down in the depths of personality we always will 
them, for they are our deepest will. The fact that we 
all value them and will them means that they are 
valuable for every one, and hence tend to give us an 
ideal world. The values of life are ends that are good 
for every life; and any life, any soul, is valuable in the 
degree that it realizes ends that are of universal good- 



THE MEANING OF EDUCATION 3 

and any life, any soul, is worthless in the degree that its 
doings stand in the way of universal good. 

Principle. — The values of life are ends that are good 
for every one; and life itself is valuable in the degree 
that it realizes ends that are of universal good. 

The Place of Experience in the Educative 
Process 

Experience is contact of the individual with the 
world about him, and the results. This contact is 
effected through the senses. Thus a child's finger comes 
in contact with a hot stove, and he receives an experi- 
ence. The next time the child sees the stove, it is hardly 
the same object to him ; for it now has a value to him, 
in this case a negative value, and he refuses to touch 
the stove as before. The result of the contact lingers 
in the form of brain changes; and we speak of the 
lingering result as the child's experience. If the ex- 
perience ended with the moment of contact, it could 
hardly be said to be valuable; for the child would 
know no more of the object after the contact than he 
did before, and "past experience" would be no guide to 
conduct. 

In spite of the first contact, which in the given case 
was unfortunately negative, the child gets further sense 
contacts with the stove; namely, he feels its heat, sees 
it manipulated by others, sees his food prepared on it, 



4 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

and so on. In this way he gains in time many cues to 
the value of the stove. Without such experiences with 
the stove, he could never come to know it ; hence he could 
never evaluate it. The only real teacher is experience. 

Principle. — The sole cue to value is experience ; and 
experience is the only teacher worth the name. 

Experience may be distinguished into two types; 
namely, personal and impersonal. Personal experience 
is first-hand, or direct, experience ; that is, direct contact 
of the individual with the environment. Thus an in- 
dividual falls into water, hears a bell, sees an island, 
tastes quinine, smells a rose, touches ice, etc. These 
sense contacts of the individual with the objects are direct 
and personal ; hence they are called personal experiences. 
Now it would seem that the child could receive such ex- 
periences from other persons; that is, that he could be 
told of the experience by one who had fallen into water, 
heard a bell, seen an island, and so on. Such indirect, 
or second-hand, experiences are known as impersonal, 
since they may be communicated, or handed along from 
one person to another in an impersonal way; that is, 
without reference to any given person. 

It is of the highest importance to note here, however, 
that no person could receive or comprehend an imper- 
sonal experience unless he already possessed personal 
experiences sufficient to interpret, or give meaning to, 
the impersonal experience as related by another. An 



THE MEANING OF EDUCATION 5 

individual who had never seen water, had never seen a 
liquid, had never seen anything fall into a liquid, and 
so on, could hardly understand one who tried to tell him 
of the experience of one who had fallen into water. 
Personal experience is therefore the basis of all knowl- 
edge; and until a child has had some personal ex- 
perience in the world, instruction is impossible. It is 
therefore evident that any instruction must begin with 
the experience of the learner. 

Principle. — The beginning point of all instruction is 
the experience of the learner. 

It is very evident that teaching efforts have wofully 
violated this principle ; and immeasurable waste has been 
the result. No subject of study has escaped. Gram- 
mars have been stuffed with scholastic definitions mean- 
ingless to children; mathematics, with antiquated and 
adult problems quite out of range of childhood experi- 
ence ; geographies and histories, with isolated facts to be 
ground into memory by mere repetition ; and the physi- 
cal and biological sciences have been made so dyspeptic 
by book feeding that they hardly dared venture out of 
doors. Not even the Bible has escaped; for children 
in the primary grades of Sunday schools have been fed 
the highly concentrated wisdom of Solomon, and armies 
of six, seven, and eight year olds have been offered the 
beautiful lines which strain the interpretative experience 
of the adult: — 



6 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He 
maketh me to lie down in green pastures : he leadeth me 
beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul : he lead- 
eth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. 
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow 
of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy 
rod and thy staff they comfort me." 

The progressive teacher of to-day, however, will 
hardly assume to present an impersonal experience to 
a child, until she knows whether or not the child has an 
actual experience basis adequate for comprehension. 
There was a time when the school proceeded on the 
assumption that it could get along without experience ; 
but to-day the efficient teacher strives to root instruc- 
tion in the personal experiences of her students. If she 
finds them deficient in necessary experiences, she takes 
them out to see the islands, the river basin, the hills; 
or she brings objects into the classroom to reveal essen- 
tial facts at first hand; language material is derived 
from the child's own speech ; indeed, nothing is offered 
without evidence that it will find meaning in the life 
experiences of the child. 

We hear on every hand nowadays that history, geog- 
raphy, nature study, etc., should "begin with the child's 
own environment and work outward." "From the near 
to the remote" is the old way of saying the same thing. 
Now the fact is, mind cannot learn in any other way; 



THE MEANING OF EDUCATION 7 

and when teachers recognize the fact that it matters 
not what one would teach a child, that child must have 
enough of his own life experiences to give meaning to 
the new, the impersonal experience, before he can receive 
it, then teaching will be safely founded upon the basis 
that an impersonal experience can be made personal 
only by relating it to personal experience. This is the 
function of the school. 

Principle. — It is the function of the school to make 
impersonal experiences personal, through the life ex- 
periences of the child. 

The school must not be negligent in its experience- 
giving function. If the child can get more valuable 
experiences around the fishing pond than in the school, 
then the fishing pond is in reality the school, and it puts 
the would-be school to shame. If the youth can get 
more vital experiences out of the farm routine than he 
can get in the agricultural school, then again the school 
is put to shame. Our better schools are struggling nobly 
to meet this requirement, and the schoolroom is being 
stocked with materials for giving genuine experiences. 
We have begun to realize that experience-giving is the 
fundamental work of the school. Sand tables and 
school gardens and work benches and laboratories are 
replying, and the four walls of the little old-time school- 
room are now being widened out by excursion and incur- 
sion to include the farm and the workshop, the factory 



8 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

and the railroad, and the whole world is indeed giving 
to the school a world of experience-giving materials. 

Principle. — The school is fundamentally an experi- 
ence-giving institution, and if it cannot give more vital 
experiences than the child can get anywhere else in the 
world, it has no valid claim upon his time. 

So thoroughly valuable is experience that it is doubtful 
if an individual ever meets one which may not be useful 
in some way at some time ; yet among the individual's 
contacts with the world, it is easily seen that there is a 
wide range of values. Just how valuable an experience 
proves to be depends upon its usefulness as means of 
reaching the ends which are valuable in life. Thus a 
given experience with dangerous cattle is likely to be more 
valuable to a cowboy than to an accountant, and a given 
experience in systematizing accounts is likely to prove of 
more value to the accountant than to the cowboy. An 
experience with the dangers of a live wire is likely to be 
of vastly more value to a pole-climber than to a sailor, 
while an experience related to the preservation of life in 
water is far more likely to prove of value to a sailor. 

Principle. — Experience is valuable in the degree that 
it is useful in realizing the values of life. 

When, in the history of the race, man's experiences 
led him to discover a device by which a man's weight 
could be made to lift a ton, that experience was treasured 
up and handed along to the next generation. The lever, 



THE MEANING OF EDUCATION 9 

the pulley, and the other elementary machines now give 
us all valuable experiences. When man's experiences 
led him to discover that a few symbols could be used to 
represent experiences, and thus serve as a means of com- 
municating those experiences, those symbols were treas- 
ured up and handed down to the next generation under 
the name "the alphabet." When some man's experience 
led him to discover a rule for finding the area of a triangle, 
that rule became a racial endowment. Thus arose the 
course of study. 

It is of the highest import to note here that neither 
the historic symbol nor the mathematical rule can mean 
anything in itself, and that the only way that either 
can become valuable to an individual is through its 
usefulness as means of handling experiences. An in- 
dividual reads to gain experiences, he writes in order 
to convey experiences, and he uses arithmetic to help 
him calculate his experiences. Only a superficial view 
can prompt one to say, "The three R's are the essentials ; " 
for they are but mere servants in handling the only es- 
sential ; namely, experience. 

Through the thousands of years that the race has been 
gaining experiences, the course of study which it offers 
to its young has been growing. Life is too short to allow 
an individual to reexperience all the valuable experi- 
ences of the race; hence the school must now select, 
out of the whole wealth of impersonal experiences, those 



IO PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

which are deemed most valuable to the oncoming 
generation. Thus the problem of elimination from the 
course of study is thrust upon us, and there is no study- 
in the curriculum which has not already felt the pruning 
knife. It is not because the greatest common divisor, 
duodecimals, partnership, cube root, and progressions 
are without value that they have been eliminated from 
arithmetic, but because we would have time for subject 
matter that promises to be more valuable to the life of 
the coming generation. 

Principle. — The course of study is a selection of those 
impersonal experiences of the race which we believe will 
be most valuable to the life of the child. 

If any person will take the time to catalogue as best 
he can all of his experiences of a single day, and then 
classify them under the heads, geography, history, 
physics, arithmetic, and so on, to include all of the com- 
mon school subjects, he will find that life is a highly com- 
plex mass of experiences. He will also find that the list 
of experiences which fall under any given head, say 
arithmetic, represents only a very limited aspect of the 
day's experience. The school subjects, therefore, split 
up life in artificial ways; but this is justifiable on the 
ground that when we start in with a given subject, we 
need enough experiences in that subject to enable us to 
reach some definite end, before dropping that subject 
and going to another. Briefly told, a subject of study is 



THE MEANING OF EDUCATION II 

an artificial but intensive aspect of, or way of looking 
at, experience. 

Principle. — Subjects of study are intensive aspects 
of experience. 

Tradition has fixed the lower school age threshold at 
six years. Before this time the child is allowed to gain 
experiences in a more or less haphazard way; yet such 
is his impulsive nature that he is continually coming 
in contact with the world on every hand, prying into 
things, now with this sense, now with that, so that when 
he enters school he brings with him a rich life experience 
of six years. Now a disastrous break in this experience- 
getting process is likely to occur; and instead of con- 
tinuing, increasing, and ordering actual experiences, the 
child's attention is summarily directed to the conventional 
symbols, the driest bones of the school. In short, the 
alphabet calamity is at hand. Penetrating educators 
have been shouting their protests against this time-worn 
procedure, and we are now beginning to realize that ex- 
perience is the essential, and that the three R's, the for- 
mal symbols, are but tools for manipulating experience. 
The best primary schools of to-day are striving to pre- 
vent the traditional break in experience-getting when 
the child enters school, by continuing the genuine ex- 
perience-getting process and bringing in the conventional 
symbols, or tools, as the child is led to see his need for 
them in his struggle to reach what he values. 



12 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

The traditional value set upon the three R's is such 
that we have not only begun the formal symbols too early, 
but we have hardly known when to cease the formal 
studies. Fortunately, again, the more aggressive schools 
have displaced the fifth and sixth readers with literary 
study, writing has been held up at the point of diminish- 
ing returns, and arithmetic has been reduced to an ex- 
perience basis. The fact to be noted here is that when 
the formal subjects are taught, not as ends in themselves, 
but as means of manipulating experience, then the hith- 
erto obtrusive forms will have found their safe limits, 
and they will cease to dominate the work of the grades. 
The formal studies will then disappear as special subjects 
of the curriculum as soon as the child has worked with 
them long enough to enable him to command them in a 
reflex way ; that is, when he can proceed with his read- 
ing, writing, and figuring without having to stop to think 
what the symbols mean, while his mind is engaged with 
the experience which these tools are assisting in handling. 

Principle. — The formal subjects of study should be 
taken up when the experience of the child indicates their 
need, and they should disappear as special subjects of 
study when the use of their forms becomes reflex. 

Schools have, and must have, a large dealing with 
books. Books are storehouses of impersonal experience. 
It has already been pointed out that a mind can receive 
no impersonal experience, unless it has sufficient personal 



THE MEANING OF EDUCATION 1 3 

experience to enable it to interpret the impersonal. A 
book, therefore, must be suited to the reader's experience, 
otherwise the reader cannot profit by it. The farmer 
does not read the journal of psychology, for the reason 
that he lacks personal experiences in the psychological 
field sufficient to enable him to understand the journal 
of psychology ; but give him the farmer's journal, and 
he is probably at home at once. Now will it pay the 
farmer to read the farmer's journal ? The only possible 
answer is conditional. If the journal contains a single 
article that is of value to the farmer, it must fulfill two 
conditions: namely, (i) it must deal with subject matter 
(say lemon oil and corn root louse experiences) within 
the scope of the farmer's own personal experience ; and 
(2) it must reveal values (say the fact that if the seed 
corn be treated with lemon oil, the corn root will be im- 
mune to the louse) hitherto unknown in the farmer's 
own experience. There is no book, be it a primer or a 
calculus or a Bible, but whose value to the individual is 
fixed by this law ; and the violation of this law is to-day 
doing more to invalidate book teaching than all other 
causes combined. 

Principle. — Books are valuable instruments of edu- 
cation in the degree that they reveal values in the reader's 
own experience. 



CHAPTER II 
THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 

In the preceding chapter the aim of systematic educa- 
tion was stated to be the direction of the experience of 
the individual to the end of enabling him to function in 
the values of life. It was there pointed out that the 
subject matter of education is experience ; and that 
to the end of more effectively directing the giving of 
experiences to the child, the school catalogues life ex- 
periences under the heads indicated by the so-called sub- 
jects of study. It falls to the purpose of the present 
chapter to deal with these subjects of study, in the hope 
of setting a few standards for judging their value as means 
of enabling the child to realize the values of life. 

It should be noted here that since subject matter is 
experience, the method by which we may teach any given 
subject matter is very largely determined by that sub- 
ject matter, or experience. To illustrate: if each of two 
teachers attempt to teach a child how to plant an apple 
tree, the method of giving the experience in either case 
will have to be in all essential respects like that employed 
in the other; namely, it will have to consider digging 

14 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 1 5 

an adequate hole in the ground, and setting the tree in 
neither too shallow nor too deep, and pressing the dirt 
about the roots with sufficient firmness to hold the tree 
in place, and so on. The method used in planting the 
apple tree could not be used for hitching a horse, for 
the reason that either process very largely dictates its 
own method. So, too, the method used for hitching 
a horse would hardly answer for a method of extracting 
the square root or of killing mosquitoes or of conjugating 
a Latin verb. Method is far less artificial than most 
teachers are ready to believe. In the present chapter, 
therefore, no effort will be put forth to separate subject 
matter sharply from method ; and for the reason that : — 

Principle. — Subject matter is impersonal experience, 
and any experience determines more or less definitely 
its own method of teaching. 

Since experience is the only real teacher, it follows that 
all knowledge must come through contact with objects, 
animate or inanimate, and that one environment will be 
richer or poorer in educational possibilities than another. 
Thus we speak of a musical " atmosphere" as the place 
to study music, of a literary " atmosphere" as the place 
to study literature, etc. Mind is, in varying degree, 
the victim of its surroundings. A rich experience enriches 
mind, and limited subject matter limits mind. However 
great the native gift of a genius, he must have opportunity 
before he can reveal. To be specific, an individual who 



1 6 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

has never seen the color blue cannot know blue as we 
know it ; and the only way he can ever thus know blue 
is to see blue objects. So, too, one who has never heard 
a bird sing cannot know the song of a bird ; one who has 
never smelled a rose cannot know the scent of a rose ; one 
who has never felt the cold cannot understand cold, etc. 
Comenius therefore realized a fundamental law of mind 
when he formulated his maxim: — 

Principle. — There is nothing in the mind not pre- 
viously in the senses. 

There is another aspect of subject matter which must 
not be allowed to escape the teacher. An individual 
who has never seen the color blue cannot know whether 
or not he likes blue; that is, he cannot know his own 
mind in reference to blue; and the only way he can ever 
reach such knowledge of himself is to see blue objects. 
So, too, an individual who has never heard a bird sing 
cannot know whether the song of a bird pleases or dis- 
pleases him, and the only way he can ever know his own 
mind in this respect is to hear a bird sing. 

A little further thought will reveal the fact that an 
inanimate object can hardly reveal love, and were a man 
alone in his world he could never feel and know love as 
we now feel and know it. So, too, the isolated individual 
could not know sympathy and social harmony, jealousy 
and anger, or any of the pro-human impulses; and he 
could not know himself in reference to them. But give 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 1 7 

that individual a single companion in the world, and in 
a thousand ways the individual will find himself revealed. 

Principle. — Mind never knows itself, except as it is 
revealed to itself through objects ; and nothing less than 
a soul can fully reveal a soul. 

Contact with the world of persons and of things is 
therefore the only means through which the mind may 
know either itself or the world outside. It is the only 
teacher ; hence it is our only means of training the child 
to will the values of life, or of developing his ability to 
realize them. Since all experience thus comes through 
(i) contact with things and (2) contact with persons, it 
follows that the course of study will naturally be divided 
into (1) nature studies and (2) social studies. 

1. The Nature Study Group 
Nature Study 

The most individual, intrusive, and ever-present view 
of the function of man is to realize his purposes, or the 
ends which he values. Man finds himself confronted 
by a world of persons and of things, each and every one 
of which has its functions in the world. Now it is sig- 
nificant that the functions of many objects correspond 
with the purposes of man, while the functions of many 
others oppose and even thwart the purposes of man. 
It is therefore of the highest importance to man to know 



1 8 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

not only his own functions, but the functions of things 
in his environment. To illustrate, one of the functions 
of granite is resistance to the attacks of weather. When 
man, therefore, purposes to build an enduring tomb, the 
granite functions with him, though in preparing and 
shaping the material the granite functions against him. 
Experience teaches man the need and the ways of con- 
trolling the granite, so as to make its functions correspond 
with his own. This process is a process of give and 
take ; that is, of interfunctioning. 

By way of further illustration, one of the functions of 
flowering plants is seed production and distribution. To 
the end of effectively carrying out this function, the cherry 
seed is made to inclose its seed in a hard coat, and to 
cover the whole with fleshy food attractive to many birds 
and to man. One of the functions of the bird and of man 
is the maintenance of life through food consumption. 
The bird and the man thus carry away the cherry fruit 
to satisfy their food-consuming function on the edible 
portion of the fruit, but they drop the vitally incased 
seed to the ground, thus realizing for the cherry tree its 
seed-distributing function. Here again we see the give 
and take, the interfunctioning process, realizing the values 
of lives. 

Man studies the granite, the tree, indeed all nature, 
in order to enable both nature and himself to function ; 
and until he understands nature, he is neither inclined 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 1 9 

nor able to control the interfunctioning process with 
her. Nature has given us nothing whose functions are 
either wholly good or bad as means of enabling man to 
function, hence all life is an interfunctioning process. 

Principle. — The aim of nature study is to give the 
child such experiences in the world of nature, as will make 
him willing and able to control the interfunctioning of 
man and his natural environment, to the end of realizing 
the values of life. 

Geography 

Since geography is one of the nature studies, the aim 
of the nature study group as already given covers the 
geography aim, and perhaps a mere statement of the 
specific aim of geography will enable us to proceed. 

Principle. — Geography aims to reveal values in the 
process of interfunctioning of man and his physical en- 
vironment. 

Not long since geography was regarded as a study of 
place. When the child had learned where the countries, 
where the seas, where the deserts, where the heaviest 
rainfall, the mountain chains, the staple productions, the 
seats of government, the gulfs and bays and capes and 
so on, the teacher of geography was satisfied with her 
work. A new era is now^at hand. We would still know 
the where, but to this is linked the why. The causal 
factor in geography is quite as important as that of place. 
If the fig functions well in Smyrna, a knowledge of why 



20 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

it thrives well there may enable man to make it function 
elsewhere. If the vine thrives well for the Spaniard, 
a knowledge of the cause may make it function as well 
for the Yankee. Now every unit of physical environ- 
ment has its potential functions, its possibilities. The 
important question from the human standpoint is, Can 
man do anything to make it function better for the race ? 
It is evident that a mere knowledge of place cannot 
enable us to reach values that such a motive seeks ; and 
everywhere in geography to-day we would penetrate to 
cause. 

Principle. — The causal factor in geography is quite 
as important as the place factor. 

An illustration of the inability of man to control the 
interfunctioning process between himself and his physical 
environment may indicate where the search for cause 
leads us. — Asia is perhaps the first and oldest inhabited 
continent. Notwithstanding the time opportunities, 
Asia perhaps shows us to-day the most backward and 
helpless of civilized tribes. Now suppose we limit our 
search for causes to the interfunctioning of man and his 
purely physical environment, and see if an explanation is 
forthcoming. In the first place it is a recognized fact 
that in the evolution of the human race, man's most rapid 
progress has never taken place under either extreme of 
demand made upon him by his environment. Too boun- 
teous surroundings foster laziness, and static conditions 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 21 

at once appear. Too hard demands lead to discourage- 
ment, and the glow of mastery is gone, and progress is 
choked. Now death always begins where growth and 
progress end ; hence in the face of either extreme of en- 
vironmental demand some tribes have disappeared, and 
some have been rescued by migration. 

Hear now the story of Asia, the land of extremes. 
On the great Siberian plains, man has yielded to cold. 
The very name, Siberia, is a synonym for icy blast. 
On another hand, the plains of Arabia are a burning 
desert. Thus physical Asia shows us her cruel jaws in 
the two extremes of heat and cold. Again, on the south- 
ern slopes of the Himalayas, we find the heaviest rain- 
fall known to man. Seventy feet of water fall in a single 
year. It is a rainy day there, and man's ambitions are 
tied up. On another hand, almost within sight of the 
region of downpour, lies the Desert of Gobi, where a drop 
of moisture is never known. Yet again, the Himalayas 
are the highest mountains of the globe, Mt. Everest the 
crowning peak, and Thibet the highest plateau inhab- 
ited by man ; while sloping away to the Arctic is an un- 
measured lowland, with its manifold miles of intermittent 
bog and ice. Still again, the river basins of Asia have 
revealed the highest type of fertile soil, indeed, the Gar- 
den of Eden may have been in Mesopotamia; while the 
deserts, spotting the continent here and there, are the 
very opposite. Once more, the fertile valleys of China 



22 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

show us the most densely populated regions of the globe, 
and the lazy tribes that have filled them are the most 
static known to man; while, on another hand, those 
bitter plains of the Arctic are the sparsely settled regions 
of the earth, where the energetic libertines of Russia are 
sent to murder time. 

In the presence of a world of manifold extremes, then, 
the Asiatic has remained a child. Overawed and si- 
lenced by obstacles which he could not master, he has not 
progressed. Asia has been a splendid place to teach 
man to reverence powers mightier than he, and it is this 
very Asia that has given the world its religions. Con- 
fucianism arose there, and Mohammedanism ; and Chris- 
tianity was born there. Man has ever looked upward 
when insurmountable obstacles cut off his vision out- 
ward; and Asia has been well fitted to teach mankind 
the lessons of filial obedience, humility, and religion in 
the infancy of the race. Once more, perhaps, we may 
note that there is nothing in the world that is either 
wholly favorable or wholly antagonistic to the functions 
of man ; and all progress, all life, is dependent upon inter- 
function. 

The Biological Studies 

The principle defining the aim of nature study holds 
throughout the nature group ; hence it includes botany, 
zoology, and physiology. If we take an intensive view of 
botany, we are perhaps inclined to define it as the mind's 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 23 

formula for its experience with plants. Likewise we 
may define zoology as the mind's formula for its experi- 
ence with animals ; and physiology as the mind's formula 
for its experience with human bodies. Such views and 
such definitions put the stress upon the plant and the 
animal, rather than upon the textbook ; and it is whole- 
some in any field of study to keep the vision beyond 
books and upon real experiences. Now since we are 
dealing with common school subjects, we shall not treat 
botany and zoology more fully, but turn our attention 
immediately to physiology. 

Perhaps there is no subject of study whose teachings 
are so negated by the school itself as physiology. It is 
not an uncommon spectacle to see teachers giving lessons 
on hygiene to students who should receive it with astonish- 
ment ; for perhaps the very schoolroom is badly cleaned, 
dusted, and ventilated, and the examination grind di- 
rectly responsible for underexercise and lack of sleep. 
Headaches are commonly received as a matter of course, 
and slumps in efficiency are diagnosed as laziness. Drink- 
ing facilities are mean and common; and six-year-olds 
are subjected to overconfinement. The fact is, we shall 
never reach the physiological values of life, and our hy- 
giene will be empty and formal, until our physiology is 
based on experience. We must rely less on textbook 
physiology, and more on the headaches, the eye aches, 
the muscle ache, the inability to study, the lack of sleep, 



24 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

the swimming of the head, the slumps in efficiency, the 
general health, the diseases, — in short, on real physiolog- 
ical experiences. It is extremely doubtful if there is a 
more inefficiently taught subject in our schools to-day 
than physiology; and there is none that should reach 
more life values. The human body cannot properly 
function so long as it is thwarted on every hand, or on 
any hand, by the food, the air, the water, the meager 
exercise, the late hours, the unclean habits, and the 
manifold attacks of the environment. The natural en- 
vironment may function well for us, but it is a dumb 
and dangerous environment, and our only safety lies in 
the fact that experience can teach us to know what 
and how to give and to take ; namely, to interfunction 
well with that environment. 

Principle. — The teacher should lay practical stress 
upon the five physiological essentials, — exercise, pure 
air, sound sleep, proper nourishment, and cleanly habits. 

Mind cannot be reached independently of body, and 
if the neural mechanism is out of order, mind is bound 
to suffer. The psychologist of to-day defines mind as 
brain function. The stomach has its function, say 
digestion ; the liver has its function, say bile secretion ; 
the lungs have their function, say respiration ; the heart 
has its function, say circulation ; and the brain has its 
function which we call mentation, or mind. The brain 
function theory of mind makes the psychical processes far 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 25 

more tangible than did the old soul theory of mind, and 
it makes the physiological processes the determinants 
of mind processes. Inability to study to-day may be 
due to bad feeding yesterday; nervousness and 
flitting attention, to bad digestion; slumps in school 
efficiency, to anemia; anergic stupor, to deficiency of 
hemoglobin; loss of memory, to loss of sleep. The 
physiological processes touch the school values at every 
breath; and when our physiology teaching is based on 
genuine bodily experiences, we shall have better bodies 
and also better minds. Education cannot hope to per- 
fect the intellectual, and at the same time neglect or 
violate the physical; for there are no mental processes 
that are not completely determined by corresponding 
brain processes. The moment the brain processes stop, 
that moment we have unconsciousness. 

Principle. — The school must strive to realize its 
physiology teaching, seizing appropriate opportunities to 
realize the fact that all mental processes are completely 
determined by corresponding physiological processes. 

2. The Social Studies 

History 

History has been widely mistaken for a memory grind, 

and few subjects have fallen so short of possibilities. 

Committing and reciting pages, with no definite aim, has 

been the usual history work; and ever in school work 



26 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

it has seemed to be the rule that memorization came in 
wherever no definite aim was in control. The fact that 
teachers themselves have not discerned the immense 
value of real history has resulted perforce in the failure 
to realize history values; for one who does not clearly 
discern the purpose of a tool may hardly be expected 
to use the tool effectively and well. 

History, if it is history, reveals the real struggle of 
the race to reach ideals, or values of life. Throughout 
the world and in all time man has struggled to reach 
what he believed to be his highest good. He is still 
engaged in that serious struggle, with the advantage that 
he has the experience of the race to guide him. On the 
one hand, men have made mistakes in the past, for they 
have often failed to reach the values for which they 
struggled. Different experiences, different purposes, 
different opinions of the same purposes, have led men 
into social disharmony; and since one man always op- 
poses another when they fail satisfactorily to interfuno 
tion, history is replete with social breakdowns, rebellions, 
and bloody strifes for the values of life, real or assumed. 
Now all these mistakes of the race are valuable to man 
to-day, if in no other way, then in the one way of reveal- 
ing to him negative values ; that is, what he should not 
do. No teacher should lose sight of the fact that the 
history of wars reveals the deepest wills of men ; hence 
it enables us to understand men. 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 27 

On the other hand, men of the past have often suc- 
ceeded in reaching genuine values of life; indeed, we are 
even led to marvel at the efficient work of man here and 
there in the past. History can reveal to us how and why. 
History, indeed, is a veritable mine of life experiences; 
and the youth of to-day studies history that he may 
profit by the experiences of the race. The great prob- 
lems of the race do not die, but are ever present; and 
history is immensely valuable in that it reveals the evo- 
lution of their solution. 

Principle. — History is valuable in the degree that it 
reveals the life problems common to the race, and the 
means which the past has used in their solution. 

The teacher of history complains, with more or less 
justification, that history texts are still badly written; 
that their aim seems to be "description of facts." Facts 
of history we must have, but the truest history comes 
through the interpretation of facts. Not the objective 
coming and going of men, not the mere clash on battle- 
fields, not the account of dynasties; in short, not the 
external fact in history is the real value; but we must 
understand the subjective, the internal, the mind in its 
struggle to function ; in fine, we must know the will that 
is reaching out after the values of life and thus is the real 
cause of the facts. A textbook in history is not good 
unless it narrates life problems, and clearly indicates 
what means the past has used in its struggle with them, 



28 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

and wherein those means have succeeded and wherein 
they have failed. 

Principle. — A textbook in history should be written 
in the form of narration, with the life problems, and the 
means the past has used in their solution, clearly set 
forth. 

The actual procedure in history teaching reveals the 
following steps : — 

i. Ascertain the ideal, or value, which the individual 
or group sought to realize. 

2. Ascertain the means employed. 

3. Judge the validity of means used. 

4. Judge the validity of the ideal, or value sought, in 
terms of present-day standards. 

The psychologist stoutly insists that the mind func- 
tion which history study preeminently trains is judg- 
ment. More specifically: — 

Principle. — History study is training in judging 
values of life and the means of realizing them. 

By way of illustration of our theory of history teach- 
ing, we may use the following bit of history taken from 
Plutarch's "Life of Lycurgus" : — 

History Extract. — "It was not left to the father to 
rear what children he pleased, but he was compelled to 
carry the child to a place called Lesche (Place of public 
conversation), to be examined by the most ancient men 
of the tribe who were assembled there. If it were strong 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 29 

and well proportioned, they gave orders for its education, 
and assigned it one of the nine thousand shares of land ; 
but if it were weakly and deformed, they ordered it to 
be thrown into the place called Apothetae, which is a deep 
cavern near the mountain Taygetus, concluding that its 
life could be no advantage either to itself or to the 
public, since nature had not given it at first any strength 
or goodness of constitution." 

Steps in Teaching. — Following the preceding outline, 
the steps in teaching this bit of Spartan history should 
be about as follows : — 

1. The Spartan ideal of life (not definitely revealed 
in the brief extract given) was what we may call the 
good soldier. 

2. The means employed, as here given, to realize the 
good soldier, was a negative one; namely, the destruc- 
tion of weaklings. 

3. Holding the attention squarely upon the Spartan 
ideal, or value of life, the student now passes judgment on 
this means of realizing the Spartan value of life. There 
should be a clearance house of opinions here, with the 
teacher guiding ; and the conclusion reached should favor 
the Spartan, for the means employed tended to realize 
his ideal. 

4. Measuring up the Spartan value of life in terms of 
present-day standards must reveal the Spartan a bar- 
barian. 



30 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

The contention that there are facts of history which 
should be known simply as facts, in order that the indi- 
vidual may " mingle intelligently with people," is not to 
be denied; but it must not be forgotten that the best 
cue to memory is thinking ; that is, relating the history 
facts to be remembered to the individual's own experi- 
ence. Thus the very best means of reaching the mem- 
ory end are, perhaps, found in thinking out the steps as 
given. 

It is further to be noted that, in keeping with the prin- 
ciple defining the value of history, history stories and 
biographies may be quite as valuable as any other his- 
tory materials, and that when we come to the subject 
of wars, this principle is a much-needed guide. If the 
teacher will apply the history steps to any given war, she 
will soon realize the futility of taking up every battle, 
since the aim of one is essentially the aim of all. The 
student should study a few battles in definitely concrete, 
experience-revealing ways, for the purpose of enabling 
him to evaluate war as a means of reaching ends. The 
important parts of the history of a war are those por- 
tions which reveal the causes and the effects, and hence 
the attention should linger with the period in which the 
cloud is forming, and again with the period of reconstruc- 
tion. Not only the procedures that succeed, but also 
the mistakes, are needed here ; for it is only through a 
comprehensive view of the significant history of the past 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 3 1 

that we can fully grasp the meaning of the life of to-day ; 
and just in the degree that we can and do grasp the mean- 
ing of present life are we able to anticipate the future. 

Literature 

We have seen that history deals with realized life, and 
that it offers us the richest experiences of real lives of the 
past, in the hope of guiding life of the present. Litera- 
ture, on the other hand, deals with idealized life, life that 
never was, just as literature reveals it ; hence it is to our 
immediate purpose to inquire how the human mind comes 
to know ideal life, and what values literature seeks to 
reach in dealing with such life. 

Every human mind is moved by the thoughts of its 
destiny. What a man is to become is a matter of the 
keenest interest to himself, leading him to struggle for 
what he believes to be his highest good. That which a 
man wills to become is his ideal, or unrealized, or uni- 
versal, self. That which a man is at any given time is 
his real, or realized, self. There are two selves, then, in 
every human being, a real and an ideal. This is a basal 
fact in education, for without it there could be no edu- 
cation. 

The ideal which the individual sets up is derived from 
his experience. Now and then in life the individual comes 
in contact with a person or a thing that reveals to him 
a trait or quality that pleases him more than any similar 



32 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

manifestation ever pleased him before. Thus beauty, 
honesty, truthfulness, altruism, all virtues, indeed, are 
revealed to mind. These best qualities, which the indi- 
vidual finds in his experience, he deeply loves ; and for 
no other reason than that they are the best that he 
knows and loves. Now the individual finds no one in 
the world that reveals all these best qualities, for the rea- 
son that no one of us is quite perfect ; but since he wills 
such a personality, he combines all of the best qualities 
which he has ever met in his experiences into one personal- 
ity which exists in his idea only, hence ideal. With this 
ideal as his standard, the individual measures those whom 
he meets, measures his own real self, indeed, and finds 
every one short of his standard. More than any real 
life, therefore, the individual loves his ideal; and deep 
down in his own personality he wills to become his ideal ; 
for it is his own deepest will, in short, his own measure 
of the value of life, his image of God. Now poetry, or 
literature, is idealized life, for it gives us visions of the 
perfect. The poet, in his creative freedom, transcends 
reality and gives us life fully in harmony with our ideals. 
Thus in literature we may live in an ideal world filled 
with ideal personalities. An ideal world, of ideal per- 
sonalities, is a world of harmony ; and in living in such 
a world, more and more we learn to love it ; hence more 
and more we learn to will a world of harmony. Poetry 
is, therefore, the harmony of humanity ; and any given 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 33 

bit of literature is valuable in the measure that it reveals 
idealized life in ways that stir the reader to will such a 
life. If the writer's ideals of life fail to measure up to 
the reader's ideals of life, then the author's work is not 
poetry to the reader, and it fails to move him, fails of 
value. 

Principle. — Literature is valuable in the degree that 
it reveals idealized life in ideal ways. 

We hear much on every hand to-day about good litera- 
ture and bad literature, and the teacher needs to know 
where to draw the line to distinguish them. 

Classic Literature 

The first thing that distinguishes a great writer, or 
that makes his literature vital, is depth and breadth of 
meaning; that is, he has something to say which is 
deeply significant to all men ; in short, he reveals a uni- 
versal truth. To illustrate, we may take the little classic 
fable, "The Fox and the Grapes." The fox struggles to 
reach a value of life, a few grapes ; but being unable to 
realize his purpose, he turns away in disappointment, 
yet finds a balm for his broken spirit in the immortal 
words "sour grapes." Now is the reader aware that the 
fox is here made to reveal the universal method of re- 
covery from disappointment? It matters not what 
disappointment man may meet in the world, he can never 
recover his bearings so long as he looks on the side of the 



34 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

loss; but let the individual who is mourning the death 
of a friend once wheel about and say, " Well, perhaps it is 
all for the best," and that moment the individual is well 
started on the road to readjustment. 

To illustrate this same point with a more serious bit 
of literature, we may use Hamlet's soliloquy. Does the 
reader know that as Hamlet stands there in that solilo- 
quy he is debating a mighty question of the ages ? Is 
life, after all, worth living ? is a question that never dies. 
The fact is, there is hardly a day in the year, and not a 
year in life, but that every one of us asks himself this 
very question. Hamlet's problem is indeed a universal 
problem ; for many times in life do we all come down to 
the point of trying to settle for ourselves whether or not 
life is a business that pays expenses. Shakespeare thus 
reveals through Hamlet a universal truth, and when we 
have answered the question for Hamlet, we have seen 
the answer to our own. 

The second thing that distinguishes the great writer is 
his ability to say things well. Let Shakespeare again 
illustrate, and he does not need a whole book. In the 
platform scene in " Hamlet," one of the watchmen com- 
plains, "'Tis bitter cold." Let the reader try to im- 
prove this statement ; let him turn it about and alter it 
as much as he will. He tries, " 'Tis freezing cold." — 
No, not so well said. Again, " 'Tis awful cold." — 
Again, not so well said. After the reader has tried it in 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 35 

every conceivable way, he will certainly come back and 
say with Shakespeare, " 'Tis bitter cold." 

Again, in "The Merchant of Venice," Shylock the 
" Jew " is made to say, " I will go and purse the ducats." 
There seems nothing remarkable about this statement 
until the reader asks how the " Jew " might have said 
this better; and the more he inquires the more he yields. 
The " Jew " wants nothing between him and his purse but 
the act of going. The form " I'll go and put the ducats 
in my purse" is not becoming to the " Jew," for it sepa- 
rates him too far from his purse; and try as the reader may, 
he will at last come back and agree with Shakespeare that 
" I will go and purse " is best for the " Jew." 
Summarizing our two elements, we have the — 
Principle. — Classic literature is literature that reveals 
universal truth in ideal ways. 

Illustration of Classic Literature 

A Tale of Two Brothers 
(author unknown) 

Abram and Zimri owned a field together — 

A level field hid in a happy vale: 

They plowed it with one plow, and in the spring 

Sowed, walking side by side, the fruitful seed. 

In harvest, when the glad earth smiles with grain, 

Each carried to his home one half the sheaves, 

And stored them with much labor in his barns. 



36 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

Now, Abram had a wife and seven sons ; 
But Zimri dwelt alone within his house. 

One night, before the sheaves were gathered in, 

As Zimri lay upon his lonely bed, 

And counted in his mind his little gains, 

He thought upon his brother Abram's lot, 

And said, "I dwell alone within my house, 

But Abram hath a wife and seven sons ; 

And yet we share the harvest sheaves alike. 

He surely needeth more for life than I: 

I will arise, and gird myself, and go 

Down to the field, and add to his from mine." 

So he arose, and girded up his loins, 

And went out softly to the level field. 

The moon shone out from dusky bars of clouds, 

The trees stood black against the cold blue sky, 

The branches waved and whispered in the wind. 

So Zimri, guided by the shifting light, 

Went down the mountain path, and found the field, 

Took from his store of sheaves a generous third, 

And bore them gladly to his brother's heap ; 

And then went back to sleep and happy dreams. 

■« 
Now, that same night, as Abram lay in bed, 
Thinking upon his blissful state in life, 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 37 

He thought upon his brother Zimri's lot, 

And said, "He dwells within his house alone; 

He goeth forth to toil with few to help ; 

He goeth home at night to a cold house, 

And hath few other friends but me and mine" 

(For these two tilled the happy vale alone) ; 

"While I, whom Heaven hath very greatly blessed, 

Dwell happy with my wife and seven sons, 

Who aid me in my toil and make it light. 

This surely is not pleasing unto God ; 

I will arise, and gird myself, and go 

Out to the field, and borrow from my store, 

And add unto my brother Zimri's pile." 

So he arose, and girded up his loins, 

And went down softly to the level field. 

The moon shone out from silver bars of clouds, 

The trees stood black against the starry sky, 

The dark leaves waved and whispered in the breeze. 

So Abram, guided by the doubtful light, 

Passed down the mountain path, and found the field 

Took from his store of sheaves a generous third, 

And added them unto his brother's heap ; 

Then he went back to sleep, and happy dreams. 

So the next morning with the early sun 
The brothers rose, and went out to their toil 



38 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

And when they came to see the heavy sheaves, 
Each wondered in his heart to find his heap, 
Though he had given a third, was still the same. 

Now, the next night went Zimri to the field, 
Took from his store of sheaves a generous share 
And placed them on his brother Abram's heap, 
And then lay down behind his pile to watch. 
The moon looked out from bars of silvery cloud, 
The cedars stood up black against the sky, 
The olive branches whispered in the wind. 

Then Abram came down softly from his home, 

And, looking to the right and left, went on, 

Took from his ample store a generous share, 

And laid it on his brother Zimri's pile. 

Then Zimri rose, and caught him in his arms, 

And wept upon his neck, and kissed his cheek ; 

And Abram saw the whole, and could not speak ; 

Neither could Zimri. So they walked along 

Back to their homes, and thanked their God in prayer 

That he had bound them in such loving bands. 

(This little poem is not a masterpiece, but a bit of 
literature whose author is not known; yet it reveals 
the harmony of humanity in a way that touches our 
finest sentiments. It may be looked upon as a valuable 
trifle, and able to touch the soul.) 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 39 

Perhaps we should not fail to point out what may be 
called a common fallacy in literature-teaching ; namely, 
the notion that the moral of a piece of literature should 
be isolated and stated. The abstract statement of a 
moral is one thing ; the same moral truth in a beautiful 
concrete setting is quite another thing. To illustrate, 
the Bible enjoins us in a straightforward, abstract state- 
ment, " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." When, 
however, the great Teacher wished to reveal the com- 
mand in a convincing and impressive way, he gave it a 
concrete setting in that beautiful bit of literature which 
we call "The Story of the Good Samaritan." When 
the great Teacher had finished this story, it is worthy of 
note that he isolated no moral, but only called upon his 
pupil to answer his own question ; and then came the 
injunction, "Go, and do thou likewise." 

The teacher who undertakes to teach the story of the 
Good Samaritan will miss her purpose if she undertakes to 
have the moral extracted and stated abstractly, some- 
thing like the following: "We ought to help our neighbors 
when they are in need." The loss of effect is easily felt. 
It is the function of literature to reveal truth in forms that 
appeal to our emotions, and when a truth so revealed is 
pulled out of its beautiful setting, it is at once coldly 
intellectual and uninviting in comparison. It is far more 
effective to leave the truth in its literary setting and lie 
in wait for opportunities to apply it in that form. Thus, 



40 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

when the child is found in a real helping situation of life, 
let the teacher say, "This is the Good Samaritan." If 
the child is found revealing selfishness, then let the 
teacher ask, "Is this the Good Samaritan ?" So too, in 
teaching a poem, say "The Miller of the Dee/' let the 
teacher not lose the powerful literary value by stating the 
moral abstractly ; but rather let her teach her children 
to see the story revealed in the concrete, so that when a 
child is found happy in his work, he is at once "The 
Miller of the Dee." 

Principle. — Literature is a powerful and practical 
moral agent so long as the moral works in its literary 
setting. 

3. The Formal Studies 

Attention is again called to the fact that in dealing 
with the formal symbols we are dealing with valuable 
tools for acquiring and handling experiences — but that 
they are only tools, with no real value in themselves. A 
tool is never as important as the work which it is to do, 
and it must ever be subordinated and determined by the 
work which called it into being. Too long the formal sub- 
jects have been taught as ends in themselves ; that is, 
the child has read, simply that he might read, and he 
has worked arithmetic simply as arithmetic. We all 
well know that as a result the world has had occasion to 
marvel at the inability of the child to "apply what he 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 4 1 

learned in school." The fact is, whenever we separate 
these tools from experience, and teach them as ends in 
themselves, the child's conception of them will be artifi- 
cial, and the world will probably have occasion to laugh 
at the " school learning" that results. 

Principle. — The conventional symbols are but tools 
for handling experience; and in teaching them they 
should be subordinated to real experience-getting 

Language 

Language is a medium of communicating experiences. 
Without experiences to communicate, we should have 
had no language ; and language is at root a mere tool of 
communication. We shall note later that communica- 
tion is one of the human instincts, and through it one 
individual may widen his life with the experience of the 
race. But given an experience which is to be communi- 
cated by one individual to another through language, we 
have two essential conditions to fulfill before the act can 
take place; namely, (i) the one who is to receive the 
communication must have experiences adequate to ap- 
perceive the experience offered, and (2) the two individu- 
als must agree on the forms employed. 

When an individual assumes to give us his experiences, 
we want them economically given. No one is pleased 
with hesitant, straggling speech; and we better under- 
stand speech if it is ready and fluent. We train in 



42 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

language, therefore, to realize fluent communication of 
experiences. We have just pointed out that there can 
be no communication unless the speaker and the hearer 
agree on the language forms employed; for if a given 
word means one thing to the speaker and another thing 
to the hearer, misunderstanding results. We also train 
in language, therefore, in order to conventionalize the 
forms of language. 

Principle. — The aim of language work is to realize 
fluent communication of experiences through the use of 
conventional language forms. 

We all know that language work, especially composi- 
tion, is usually dry and formal work to students. We may 
no doubt find the cause in the bad selection of material. 
We have all seen the remarkable catalogues of topics 
that children have been assigned to " write on." Recent 
authors have assailed the lists without mercy. Now all 
these bad selections are due to the fact that teachers 
have mistaken the function of language training. When 
language training becomes a training in communicating 
experience, the perfunctory assignment and the perfunc- 
tory theme work will cease. There is a wide difference 
between having something to say and having to say 
something. The impromptu speech is likely to be bad 
enough from the platform, but it is about unendurable 
in school compositions. In order to make sure that the 
child has something that he wants to say, it is not a bad 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 43 

plan to allow him to choose his own theme topic ; in any 
case the teacher should be assured that the child has 
both motive and means ; for we must have the child feel 
that he has something to say that is of interest to others, 
otherwise we are adding to our race of bores. A self- 
respecting person maintains his silence when he feels 
that speech would make him a bore. 

Principle. — The child should be encouraged to talk 
or write only upon topics on which he has experiences 
which he thinks worth communicating to others. 

There is another common weakness in theme-writing 
which needs to be assailed; namely, the effort is not 
aimed at any definite person or group. In experience, 
our speech is directed toward definite individuals, and we 
try to adapt our language. The same plan should be 
followed in composition work, if we are to hope for defi- 
nite and unified results. Firing into the bushes is not 
likely to bring anything down, and if it does, it is acci- 
dent. We have all heard of " talking in the air," but 
we have all seen writing "in the air." 

Principle. — The composition effort should be directed 
toward a definite individual or group, and the language 
adapted. 

Taking up more specifically the subject of unity in 
composition, teachers should realize that there are no 
external devices which can give us unity of thought, and 
through it unity of speech. A little introspection can 



44 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

give us the only genuine clew to the inner harmony that 
gives us unity of speech. Every person's experience will 
no doubt justify the statement that our chain of ideas 
during a paroxysm of joy is anything but like that during 
a period of sorrow. When we are in a joyful mood, sad 
thoughts do not come to mind ; hence the whole world 
may seem altogether happy when the inner world is 
happy. So, too, when we are seized by a paroxysm of 
grief, nothing but the sad experiences of life come into 
mind; and since these experiences troop in to the ex- 
clusion of others, we are quite too ready to believe that 
" misfortunes never come alone." If, then, we are to 
get the desired results in compositions, we cannot ignore 
the moods ; for no one can give us a unified theme when 
the flow of ideas is out of harmony with the subject. 
Our best efforts in composition come when a we feel like 
writing ; " and however much we may wish to escape the 
law, the teacher who seeks unity in compositions must 
either get the student into the right mood by bringing 
up a chain of interesting ideas related to the topic, or 
else trust that the child's mood and the topic will har- 
monize by choice or by chance. Only when the flow 
of ideas is in harmony with the topic at hand can we 
have a deep and vital unity of speech, a unity which John 
Dewey says " reflective thought may imitate, but only 
overmastering emotion produce." 
All this may be summarized in the law which the 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 45 

psychologist calls the "law of analogy of feeling" ; and 
since no better guidance could perhaps be given here 
than the law itself, we may give it the following simple 
statement. 

Principle. — The Law of Analogy of Feeling. — At 
any given time, only those ideas reappear in conscious- 
ness which are in emotional harmony with the mood 
then present. 

Grammar 

We have already noted the fact that all communication 
is based on conventional forms. One does not have to 
pursue the study of language forms very far before one 
becomes aware of the need of laws by which we may 
standardize the forms of language. Thus has arisen the 
science which we call grammar. 

Grammar may be denned as the science of the sen- 
tence. In studying grammar, the student dissects the 
sentence and studies the structure of each element for 
the purpose of discovering its function. With sufficient 
experience with the elements and their functions, the 
student is able to discover laws, or principles, controlling 
them. At this point language study assumes a scien- 
tific aspect; for science is experience reduced to prin- 
ciples. Grammar is a science in the degree that its sub- 
ject matter is reduced to law, even though the law may 
be the mere law of usage. Principles serve as standards 



46 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

for judging things. Thus the student judges the elusive 
form "It is I" to be correct, by the principle that predi- 
cate nouns or pronouns are nominative ; that the form 
"Whom do you see?" is correct, in accordance with the 
law of objectives. It is therefore evident that the real 
function of grammar is to standardize the forms of lan- 
guage ; and this it does by bringing the forms under law. 
When the standards are known, communication of ex- 
perience may be ready and definite ; and it is to be noted 
that the principles of grammar serve not only as stand- 
ards for judging the individual's own language, but as 
standards of interpretation of the language of others as 
well. 

Principle. — Grammar is valuable in the degree that 
it reveals the standard forms of language. 

Like all other formal studies, grammar is a tool for 
manipulating the child's own experience; and the mo- 
ment it is studied apart from that experience, it loses 
motive and value to the child. The material for gram- 
mar study should therefore be taken primarily from the 
child's own language experience. The child has been 
using language ever since he began to communicate; 
has acquired more or less skill, indeed, in the use of the 
conventional forms; and in fact he would hardly be per- 
mitted to undertake the serious study of grammar until 
he had acquired the ability to express his thoughts in 
a fairly successful way. Grammar should begin with 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 47 

this experience and proceed to unify it by reducing it to 
law, to science ; hence the method of grammar is that 
popularly known as "inductive." 

Principle. — The subject matter of grammar should 
be selected primarily from the child's own language 
experience, and that experience is to be unified in the 
science, grammar. 

When the child's language experience has been reduced 
to law, the teacher's work is far from finished in language. 
The child may know the correct forms, yet fail to use them 
in speech. Thus his grammatical errors, that is, those of 
his language experiences which he has found do not unify 
with the standards established, are to be routed, while 
new and unifying experiences are to be repeated and 
organized into habit. Grammar reveals the standards of 
language, but it cannot give us at once a perfect speech. 
Its principles serve to guide in remaking speech already 
quite firmly fixed by language experience ; but experience 
itself is the only teacher worth the name; and thus it 
remains for actual experience, repeated over and over 
in thoughtful ways, to establish the habitual use of the 
standard forms of grammar. Only by language training 
that gives persistent attention to definite language errors 
is correct expression to be fixed. 

Principle. — We talk by habit, not by rule ; hence it 
is language training that must establish the habitual use 
of the standard forms of grammar. 



48 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

Reading 

Reading may be looked upon as the interpretation of 
language; and so the treatment of language has paved 
the way to reading. Once more we must note that ex- 
perience is the essential, and that reading is but a means 
of handling experience. The efficient primary teacher 
therefore begins the work in reading with the child's 
own experience. The child's ideas and thought of 
his experience are given objective form on the board, 
and he reads them and loves them because they are his 
own. This is true whether the approach is through 
game or through object ; for the child must read his own 
experience into the written forms on the board before 
he can get meaning from them. This holds true in all 
reading, and throughout life; and in any teaching of 
reading, the reading form should be subordinated to the 
experience which it means to convey. Reading is a 
means, not an end. The shifting attention of the child 
must be centered upon the thought; and whether this 
be done by questioning, or by problem setting and solv- 
ing, or by blackboard sketching, or by the use of pictures, 
or by dramatization, the aim is constant; namely, 
thought-getting and interpretation in terms of the read- 
er's own experience. 

Principle. — In teaching reading, the primal aim should 
be thought-getting and interpretation in terms of the 
reader's own experience. 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 49 

When we come to the matter of reading material, we 
must concede that it is most fortunate that the elemen- 
tary readers of to-day are being fairly well constructed 
out of childlike experiences, and handled in child-inviting 
ways. The languid look, once so common, is beginning 
to disappear from the reading class, as child life comes 
into the hitherto lifeless reading forms. We have now 
to insist that the tools of reading be kept in the back- 
ground, every new word of the primer being anticipated, 
with but few new words in any given lesson, in order that 
experiences may hold the center of the stage. In short, 
the child must feel that he is reading "to get the story," 
not that he is reading to command the reading forms. 
Thus from the very beginning the child must find satis- 
faction in reading because he feels that the book is talking 
to him and telling him something that he wants to know. 

Principle. — The primer must deal with inviting, 
childlike experiences, so handled as to keep the thought 
in the foreground of attention and the reading forms in 
the background. 

The multiplicity of reading methods has led many 
teachers to wonder what the unit of reading really is. 
Is the reading unit the letter or the sound or the word or 
the group or the thought? The teaching of reading 
once began with the alphabet ; but that calamity, let us 
hope, has lost its sway. It is doubtful if drier bones 
were ever offered human beings, and that, too, to the 

E 



50 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

tender gums of six-year-olds. It is interesting to note 
that Germany has by law forbidden the alphabet 
method in her schools. The death blow to the alphabet 
method is found in the fact that no reader recognizes the 
individual letters of a word in his reading. One who 
doubts may write or print fifty isolated letters on a page, 
and mark the time required to read them. Then one 
may write or print fifty known words in sentences, and 
note the time required to read them. We need not be 
astonished if the time required in reading the words is 
less than that required for the letters. Now if the 
reader discerned each letter in the word, it would take 
much longer to read a word than to read a letter ; yet 
no thorough test reveals such a case. Evidently, then, 
the letter is not the unit of reading. 

A little more technical investigation reveals the fact 
that the word is not the reading unit. As the eye moves 
from one end of the line to the other in reading across 
a page, a moving photographic plate reveals that its 
movement is not continuous, but broken by a series of 
stops. Thus in reading a newspaper line, the eye may 
make three, four, five, or more stops, the number depend- 
ing upon the reader and the reading material. A little 
further study reveals that the eye recognizes no words 
when the eye is "on the wing/' but that recognition 
takes place only when the eye is at rest or nearly so. Still 
further, the stops may occur anywhere in the line ; that 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 5 1 

is, they may occur in a word or between two words, or 
two stops may include one or several words. Testing 
with varied reading materials, we find that if the words 
do not form connected meaning, the time required for 
reading and the number of stops is increased. Finally, 
all reading is liable to error through expected meaning. 
Thus a reader comes upon the phrase "in the house' ' 
so often that he apperceives it as a whole. Now let 
him come upon the phrase "in the horse, " and he is al- 
most certain to anticipate and read it "in the house. ,, 
All this goes to show that neither the letter nor the word 
is the reading unit, but that the thought, coming piece- 
meal, is the building block. 

Principle. — The unit of reading is neither the letter 
nor the word, but the thought. 

There are other facts revealed by research which are 
of value to the teacher of reading. Bringing in the time 
element, we find that the time required for reading varies 
for different individuals ; and that the difference is essen- 
tially due either to the number of eye pauses or to the 
length of the pauses or to both. A trained reader makes 
both fewer and shorter stops; hence he reads faster. 
We can, as a rule, catch the words and the meaning of 
a line with both fewer and shorter stops than we usually 
make, but we have simply fallen into the habit of reading 
slowly. Rapid reading brings the elements of the thought 
into consciousness in close succession, and so favors 



52 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

unity of meaning of the parts read. For this reason a 
rapid reader retains better, other things equal, than a 
slow reader. In ordinary reading, the retina of an or- 
dinary eye can handle a four-inch line in three pauses of 
one-hundredth second each ; yet no one lives up to this 
limit in reading. A little practice in forced reading will 
reveal to any one the possibilities here indicated. 

When we come to evaluate the different kinds of read- 
ing exercises, silent, oral, concert, etc., perhaps no one 
will doubt that silent reading is by far the most ser- 
viceable reading, for the reason that in actual experience 
we do relatively little of any other kind. Summarizing 
facts, therefore, we may lay down the principle: — 

Principle. — Rapid silent reading is a valid secondary 
aim in teaching reading, and this form of reading should 
command most of the child's time and attention in read- 
ing. 

Dramatization of Reading Material 

The psychologist recognizes the significance of the fact 
that the brain is the central station of a multitude of 
neural arcs, one portion of each arc being physiologically 
known as the sensory nerve, the other as the motor nerve. 
Every nerve current that flows into the brain from the 
child's ears or eyes or skin or any sense organ must run 
out again into his muscles. Inhibition does not invali- 
date this law. When we have fully recognized this unity 
of sense and muscle, we can understand what the psy- 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 53 

chologist means when he says it is a mistake to work 
with the senses as if they were cut off from bodily move- 
ments. This psychological fact is easily recognized in 
experience. The man who sees another man turn a 
handspring does not definitely know a handspring until 
he turns one himself ; and if he can never turn one, then 
he can never have thorough knowledge of the handspring. 
The person who hears a new song may think he knows 
the song, but he readily finds that he knows it better 
after he has sung it for himself. A man may have 
watched a blacksmith shoe horses for days and months, 
but he will not have fully realized what horseshoeing is 
until he has actually shod a horse. Laboratories and 
work benches, and the manifold school activities, all 
give in evidence that we believe in self-activity ; and all 
these activities are carried on upon the belief that the 
doing of things realizes and defines our knowledge of 
things. When the teacher has a bit of reading material, 
therefore, that presents a life situation which she would 
like to make very real to the child, we can understand 
why she should have him dramatize it. 

Principle. — The function of dramatization in school 
is to realize life experiences. 

Writing 

Writing is another tool for handling experience. It is 
one of the time-honored " three R's" ; yet in this day of 



54 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

writing machines, with their corollaries, the duplicating 
and stamping machines, many educators have already 
claimed that we can no longer set upon handwriting the 
high value, nor give it the time and attention, that it 
was once able to command. Whether or not we accept 
these claims as founded on sufficient evidence, there is 
some truth in them, and this has helped some of us to 
settle for ourselves, at least, the bitter controversies that 
have shaken penmanship teaching for the past quarter 
of a century. 

Departing a little from our usual procedure, we can 
perhaps not do better than to state the modern aims 
of penmanship at this time, and justify as we pro- 
ceed. 

Principle. — The aims in teaching writing are: (i) legi- 
bility, (2) individuality, and (3) adapted speed. 

Throughout the years of controversy, the one aim 
which the disinterested investigator of penmanship is 
ready to say has endured is legibility. What a man 
writes, whatever may be the result, he actually aims to 
get down so that some one, at some time or other, may 
be able to read it. We may, therefore, within reason- 
able limits, accept the legibility claim as fixed and en- 
during. Legibility, when stripped of all accessories, 
is simply oneness of form. If every one using our script 
made each letter exactly like a given pattern, then any 
person could read any other person's writing just as well 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 55 

as his own; and such a degree of familiarity we may 
reasonably call perfect legibility. 

Now comes the business fraternity with the plea that 
too much legibility, too much similarity of form, actually 
renders signatures worthless; for the reason that iden- 
tification is then impossible, and counterfeiting easy. 
This plea is valid, and we must recognize individuality 
as one of the ends to be sought in teaching writing. 

We have now accepted two aims, legibility and in- 
dividuality ; yet they seem to be almost directly opposed ; 
for legibility is similarity, impersonality of form, while 
individuality is dissimilarity, personality of form. Our 
problem is now, therefore, the unification of these oppos- 
ing aims. 

It requires but little experience in penmanship teach- 
ing to bring out the fact that individuality is bound to 
be revealed with anything like liberal training ; and that 
the more liberal the training a hand receives, the greater 
the individuality likely to be shown. Briefly told, there 
is no handwriting but that reveals personality in its loops, 
its lines, its dots, its curves, its run, its slant, its points 
of maximum pressure; and these characteristics will 
assert themselves more or less freely if the training is 
free. 

Legibility, too, is bound to come in some degree, since 
the child must be working in some degree to imitate 
a model. While there is evidently no danger that the 



56 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

child will reveal perfect legibility, yet the teacher must 
believe that individuality must be sought. The pro- 
cedure must be somewhat as follows. First attention is 
given to legibility; and the child must have the word 
form and the letter form as his model. As soon as the 
child gets the form in mind, the model is put out of sight, 
and returned only to check too great variation from the 
standard form. One student reads the writing of an- 
other, in order to find illegible writing and give motive 
for change. Individuality, as already pointed out in 
detail, comes in ; and any of these minor variations from 
the standard form, which the peculiar personal hand 
can manifest without destroying a reasonable legibility, 
is to be permitted. Thus the two aims unify in com- 
promise, and both ends may be reached. 

Principle. — The two contrary aims in writing, legi- 
bility and individuality, are harmonized by giving first 
attention to legibility, and then permitting such minor 
variations from the common form as the peculiar per- 
sonal hand can manifest without destroying a reasonable 
legibility. 

We can hardly hope to escape the bitterly controverted 
questions of slant, position of body, position of pen, etc. ; 
and perhaps it should be stated from the very outset that 
bitterness of controversies almost always comes from 
personal interest, rather than from honest and disinter- 
ested inquiry. With all candor it must be stated that 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 57 

it is not the duty of the teacher to dictate the slant, nor 
to fix the position of the child's hand and body as if cast 
in a plaster mold. If any teacher will follow up the results 
of such efforts, in a disinterested inquiry, she will find 
that such efforts have been liberally wasted; for the 
moment the child begins to use penmanship as a tool, 
and not as an end, he wears the tool in ways that un- 
mistakably reveal the individuality of the workman. 
The moment we accept the individuality aim, that mo- 
ment we must believe that we need all the slants yet 
devised, and some more. So, too, in working out indi- 
viduality in writing, we shall be forced to the conclusion 
that any reasonable position of body or pen which is 
comfortable and fitting to the individual is to be wel- 
comed. The business college teacher need take no more 
of this to heart than he pleases, for he is not dealing with 
the common school, but seeking special ends. The busi- 
ness college may be justified in seeking beautiful and 
expensive handwriting; but when the common school 
seeks such ends, it has lost its way. 

Principle. — Any writing slant, any position of body 
or of desk or of pen, which is reasonable and comfortable 
to the writer, should be valued as means to individuality 
of handwriting. 

The subject of speed in writing has also given us its 
troubles. This subject is really subsumed under the 
subject individuality, for normal speed finally resolves 



58 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

itself into personal elements. In this day of writing 
machines, rapid handwriting in quantity is not in great 
demand, and recent research work has shown that every 
individual has his adapted norm which is partly deter- 
mined by the amount of writing which he does regularly. 
In the beginning, all children are slow in writing, for the 
reason that the motor coordinations are forming. Writ- 
ing becomes more rapid as the process becomes reflex. 
Now it happens that in the life of both the individual 
and the race, the coarser muscles have been and are the 
first to establish coordinations; the finer movements 
being gradually established later. This fact must not be 
lost sight of in teaching the child to write. 

Principle. — Motor coordinations in writing begin 
with the coarser movements, and gradually extend to the 
finer movements. 

The first writing should therefore engage the arm mus- 
cles in forming large, coarse letters; the finger move- 
ments with pencil and pen coming in after the coarser 
movements are fairly well established. As the move- 
ments become more free and smooth, year after year, the 
amount of time given to writing should increase; but 
the time finally comes when the effort to increase the 
speed causes the writing to deteriorate in quality. Like- 
wise there comes a time when more practice in writing 
fails to give commensurate returns. It will be found 
that every individual finally reaches the point, in both 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 59 

speed and quality, which seems adapted to him. This 
is the point of diminishing returns. More speed at this 
point destroys the quality ; and while a greater amount 
of practice may improve the quality, that quality quickly 
drops back to the adapted norm when the individual's 
regular drill is stopped. Experience with the individ- 
ual's writing, as time goes on, is the only means of deter- 
mining the norm ; but none but professional penmen of 
to-day do enough writing to hold a high quality, even 
if once reached. 

Principle. — Practice in writing should be sufficient 
to realize the three aims: legibility, individuality, and 
adapted speed ; but it should not be carried beyond the 
point of diminishing returns. 

There is yet another vital question in penmanship 
teaching. Shall the left-handed child use his right or his 
left hand in writing? Arm measures reveal the fact 
that nature gives us two unequal arms. They are un- 
equal at birth, one usually weighing and measuring more 
than the other. All this is not without significance. If 
we stop to reflect, we may discern that an individual 
hardly wants two equally good arms; for the exercise 
necessary to maintain one good arm, as we now have it, 
would then be divided between two, with the result that 
neither would then measure up with our best one now. 
An arm becomes adapted and efficient through exercise 
in specific ways. Suppose an individual has two equally 



60 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

good arms which his usual exercise raises to any given 
standard of efficiency, say, abstractly, 14 units. Had the 
exercise been differently divided, one of these arms might 
have been raised to efficiency 16, and the other corre- 
spondingly reduced to 12. The latter case would repre- 
sent a more efficient arm equipment ; for the reason that 
a 16 arm could realize values in the world that a 14 arm 
could not reach. To illustrate, one 16 hand on a surgeon 
could guide a knife in safety where two 14 hands would 
bungle in a stroke. So, too, a 16 hand on an artist could 
give a picture that either of two 14 hands could not pro- 
duce. The fact is, the unequal arms with which the child 
is born are in keeping with the principle of specialization. 
Two hands are almost never equally employed in skillful 
work, and nature seems to have anticipated and assured 
hand specialization. 

The following measures of a two-year-old boy will 
give some idea of the differences in arm equipment: 

Length of humerus right, 7 inches 

Length of humerus left, 7* inches 

Circumference of humerus and biceps relaxed . . . right, 6| inches 
Circumference of humerus and biceps relaxed . . . left, 6| inches 
Length of ulna and hand to 1st knuckle ..... right, 6f inches 
Length of ulna and hand to 1st knuckle ..... left, 6| inches 

Forearm circumference (relaxed) right, 6i inches 

Forearm circumference (relaxed) left, 6| inches 

Perimeter of hand (buttress) right, $1 inches 

Perimeter of hand (buttre:^) left, 5! inches 

It will be noted that these measures reveal a case of 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 6 1 

marked lef t-handedness ; yet the father of the boy was 
struggling to get the boy to adopt his right hand. How- 
ever we may plead excuse on the ground of ignorance in 
such cases, education can hardly forgive a parent or 
teacher who insists on neglecting the magnificent possi- 
bilities of such a left arm, only to develop the meager pos- 
sibilities of such a comparatively diminutive right arm. 
Too long already we have followed a blind tradition. 

Another aspect of this problem is quite as serious. We 
are so constituted that the right arm is controlled by the 
left side of the brain, and the left arm by the right side 
of the brain. Moreover, the left side of the brain is more 
highly developed in right-handed persons, and the right 
side of the brain is more highly developed in left-handed 
persons. When, therefore, we assume to cause a left- 
handed child to adopt his right hand, we are calling upon 
the less developed side of the brain to control his move- 
ments. This is squarely away from his highest possibil- 
ities. We can also understand why such changes are so 
hard to establish. It is hardly appropriate to go into 
further technical details here, but our evidence points 
unmistakably to the fact that it is a serious mistake 
to have the left-handed child learn to write with the right 
hand. 

Principle. — The teacher should encourage the left- 
handed child to write with his left hand. 

Unfortunately, parents are often inclined to oppose 



62 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

the teacher who asks the child to write with his left hand. 
Tradition is undoubtedly in the way of progress here. 
The mother is inclined to "see how it looks," and the 
father may be thinking of right-handed tools. This is all 
tradition ; and when we have freed the race from preju- 
dice against the left hand, we shall not see the " looks," 
and the demand for left-handed scissors and scythes and 
hair clippers will create the supply. This accomplished, 
we shall have done a noble service to humanity. 

It should be further noted that the fact that the left 
hand is at a disadvantage in the slant writing may be 
taken as further argument for individuality in penman- 
ship. Our effort should not be to fit the child to the writ- 
ing, but the writing to the child. 

Arithmetic 

The last in line of the traditional " three R's" is arith- 
metic. Excepting reading, perhaps, there is no subject 
in the curriculum whose usefulness is so universally sub- 
scribed to as arithmetic, nor one upon which the pruning 
knife of progressive educators has fallen with more popu- 
lar consternation. Still, arithmetic, like all the formal 
studies, is but a tool for handling experience ; and it must 
be determined by that experience. 

Arithmetic aims to give the child possession of ready 
and accurate means of measuring the quantitative side 
of his experience. The quantitative side of experience 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 63 

everywhere confronts us, and ever we find need for 
measuring it, — how much time, how much weight, how 
much heat, how much expense, how much cost, how 
much material, indeed, how much and how many on every 
hand. It is evident that we need ready means, if we 
are to measure all these intrusive quantities ; and our 
measures must be accurate, if they are to be reliable. 

If an individual would realize what a convenient tool 
arithmetic is, let him try to measure some quantity with- 
out the arithmetical symbols. Try to find the cost of 395 
acres of land at $243 an acre, without writing or thinking 
figures. Or try to think lifetime, without thinking it 
in years or in some of our time units. The fact is, each 
process in arithmetic, be it enumeration or addition or 
multiplication, or fraction or decimal computation, is a 
tool that every literate man has so thoroughly interwoven 
in his affairs of life that experience would now seem heavy- 
footed, and much of it unthinkable, were the tool to be 
lost. 

Principle. — The function of arithmetic is to provide 
accurate and ready means of measuring the quantitative 
side of experience. 

It ever happens in any field of experience that tools 
which were once valued as efficient means to ends are 
now and then relegated to the scrap heap or to the mu- 
seum, either because the ends for which they served as 
means have ceased to be valued as they once were, or 



64 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

because new and more efficient tools have rendered them 
obsolete. The snuffbox and the curling iron perhaps illus- 
trate the former, and the spinning wheel and the bow and 
arrow, the latter. So, too, the greatest common divisor, 
duodecimals, compound interest, partnership, compound 
proportion, cube root, progressions, are being set aside 
either for the reason that the ends, imaginary or real, 
for which they served as means, are not now valued as 
they once were, or else because we have found better 
tools for accurately and speedily reaching these ends. 

Too long already we have clung to obsolete processes ; 
and the artificial value assigned them has served to give 
the student misconceptions of experience ahead. When 
it comes to filling the head of every school child with such 
specialized subject matter as the apothecaries' table, the 
surveyor's table, troy weight, the Connecticut rule for 
partial payments, and so on, we are led to wonder why 
not teach every child the shoemaker trade, the black- 
smith trade, the tailor trade, the carpenter trade. 

Principle. — Arithmetical processes which have be- 
come obsolete, or which do not enter into common use, 
should be eliminated from the common school course of 
study. 

It is evident that the first aim in handling the arith- 
metical tool, or process, should be accuracy. In the 
world of experience, nothing short of the correct answer 
will do. No business firm is willing or can afford to pay 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 65 

for mistakes in figuring. That burden must fall upon the 
bad mathematician. It must be so in school, if the school 
is to be true to its mission. The school must recognize 
that the child's work in arithmetic is either definitely 
right or definitely wrong, either valid or worthless ; hence 
the teacher who excuses "the little mistake because the 
child seems to understand the principle," is not true to 
experience. Accuracy must be constantly insisted upon. 

So, too, since arithmetic represents the best experiences 
of the race in its struggle for more reliable and more 
rapid means of handling the tremendous problem of 
quantity in experience, the teacher must insist on 
economy in time. The Russian shopkeeper figures up 
his sales on the abacus, and even by laying straws. His 
methods are fairly accurate, but most of his time is taken 
up with his wretched figuring processes. His tools for 
computation are therefore sadly inadequate, for they are 
highly expensive in the way of consuming his time. 

While we need rapid work in arithmetic, this aspect 
of mathematical training must not be pushed too early, 
for the student must acquire some dexterity with any tool 
before he can use it with rapidity. When the rapid drill 
does come in, it should appear gradually, and the greatest 
care taken that the student does not lose himself in 
" nervous worry." Nowhere in school have we a place for 
worry; for it is worry, and not work, that kills. The 
"time limit" in arithmetic must not be allowed to make 



66 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

the student feel its burden ; if so, let the teacher at once 
rebuke herself for bad judgment. 

Principle. — Accuracy, along with reasonable rapidity, 
should be constantly emphasized in arithmetic. 

The essence of arithmetic is found in its principles, 
definitions, rules ; in short, in the abstractions of arith- 
metic. It is therefore of the highest importance that the 
teacher clearly discern how the mind reaches the abstract 
in arithmetic. 

When the child attempts to comprehend the abstract 
statement 3 plus 2 equals 5, there is really but one way 
that he can ever really know the truth, and that is through 
experience. In other words, he must find that 3 marbles 
and 2 marbles are 5 marbles; 3 boys and 2 boys are 
5 boys; 3 roses and 2 roses are 5 roses; 3 splints and 

2 splints are 5 splints, etc. Now the teacher might show 
him that 3 splints and 2 splints are 5 splints, and if he 
forgot, she could again bring forth the splints ; but we 
should not forget that if the child always sees 3 plus 2 are 
5 in connection with splints, then he will never get the 

3 plus 2 are 5 away from the splint idea ; that is, he will 
never see that 3 plus 2 are 5, in the abstract. Teachers 
are hardly able to believe that there are hundreds of 
children who have been kept at the splints so long that 
they think splints and see splints in connection with 
every number ; but the psychological laboratory reveals 
them. If the teacher who finds a child amazingly slow 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 67 

in adding or subtracting would seek for the cause, let her 
question him as to what he is thinking, "what he sees;" 
and she need not be astonished if she finds that he is still 
thinking and laying and counting splints, still dealing in 
concretes. No mind can be quick in numbers so long as 
it is burdened with the concrete ; yet no mind can com- 
prehend the abstract unless it derives it from the con- 
crete. Without things to count, for instance, the child 
could never understand counting, yet many a child is 
started off in counting without objects. This aspect of 
our topic will be treated more fully when we come to deal 
with the imagination. 

We may go a step farther and say that these statements 
hold true for any abstraction. A definition, a principle, 
or a rule means nothing to a child until he has experience 
adequate to interpret it. He can get no conception of 
fractions until he has seen fractions of things ; and a rule 
for finding the area of a triangle means nothing to him 
until he has created it out of his experience with rec- 
tangles. Any generalization must be a generalization 
of the experience of the mind handling it ; otherwise it 
lacks content. 

Principle. — Principles, rules, definitions, — in short, the 
abstract in arithmetic should summarize the child's own 
concrete experience; but an unvarying and continued 
use of the concrete hinders the child in thinking the 
abstract. 



68 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

There should be no question as to whether or not the 
child comprehends a principle or definition or other con- 
ception in arithmetic ; hence good teaching requires the 
child to state the generalization in his own words before 
another form is risked. To illustrate, a child who has 
been doubling triangles for the purpose of rinding a law 
for deriving the area of triangles, states his conclusion: 
"If we want to find the area of a triangle, we can first 
find the area of a parallelogram with the same base and 
altitude as the triangle has, and then divide it in two." 
With this statement as a starting point, the teacher may- 
proceed to question the way through to the more sym- 
bolic form of the text, if she likes it, "The area of a tri- 
angle is equivalent to one half the product of base and 
altitude." 

Principle. — Generalizations in arithmetic should first 
be stated in the child's own words, but they may after- 
wards be reduced to a set form meaning the same to the 
child. 

Spelling 

The last of the formal studies is spelling; and it 
should not surprise the teacher when we say that it is also 
the last for which we have been able to derive anything 
like a valid specific theory of teaching. Generation after 
generation left the schoolroom with the notion that it 
was more or less "disgraceful to be unable to spell any 
word in the spelling book," yet that book perhaps 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 69 

contained hundreds of words which they have never used 
since they closed it. We have been possessed of a large 
ambition in spelling, so large indeed that the most indus- 
trious of us have never arrived. Undaunted perhaps 
by the fact that the English language has an irrational 
spelling, innocent of the fact that oral spelling may be 
quite a different thing from written spelling, and unaware 
of the fact that the best spelling books yet devised waste 
by far the larger portion of the time spent upon them, we 
have struggled faithfully on, only to meet the persistent 
and bitter criticism that "the schools do not teach the 
children to spell well." Indeed, the very persistence of 
this criticism has led some of us to undertake serious in- 
vestigations of the spelling problem ; and while it should 
be admitted in all candor that there are still aspects of 
the problem that trouble us, we are able to lay down a 
few principles to serve as guides in the teaching of spelling. 
A little reflection may reveal the fact that the child 
meets four vocabularies, in his struggle to command the 
tools for manipulating his experience. The earliest is 
the aural vocabulary, the ear vocabulary. For several 
months before the child can talk, he can understand what 
others say to him. He commands many words through 
the ear, indeed, and has built up quite an aural vocabulary 
before he ever speaks the initial "papa" or "mamma." 
When he does attempt speech, his problem is that of 
acquiring oral command of those words of his aural list 



70 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

which he finds immediately useful. It is noteworthy 
here that the oral vocabulary draws its list from the aural 
vocabulary, that the two vocabularies are not identical, 
and that the oral list cannot exceed the aural. As a 
matter of fact, the oral list never equals the aural list. 

When the child enters school, he meets his third, the 
visual, vocabulary. His problem now is to recognize 
through the eye the list of words already known to ear 
and tongue. The important fact to note here is that since 
the aural and the oral vocabularies have about five or 
more years the start of the visual vocabulary, the latter 
must lag far behind the other two for years ; though in 
time it may with some people exceed the oral. Soon the 
fourth vocabulary, the written, appears. The last to 
start, the written vocabulary is the most meager list that 
the child has ; and with the possible exception of persons 
whose lives are spent in reading and writing, the written 
vocabulary always remains the smallest vocabulary that 
the individual commands. 

The significant fact here is not hard to discern ; namely, 
that the child must know how to spell the words in but 
one of his four vocabularies, and that is the written. It 
happens, fortunately, that this vocabulary contains the 
smallest list of words. 

Principle. — The spelling lesson should be based on 
the child's own written vocabulary. 

There are many words in a child's written vocabulary 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 7 1 

which he never misspells, and which he could hardly mis- 
spell without an effort. It is evidently a waste of his 
time to study the spelling of such words. Now it happens 
that the number of words which a child chronically mis- 
spells is far less than most teachers are ready to believe. 
In a study of this problem, conducted by the pedagogy 
department of the Maryland State Normal School at 
Baltimore, the written vocabularies of over two hundred 
students were listed ; and there was found no student in 
any grade from one to ten who misspelled ninety differ- 
ent words. Most students misspelled from twenty to 
sixty different words; and many cases were found in 
which a student misspelled a given word more times than 
there were different words in his misspelled list. For 
most students, therefore, a spelling lesson of one word a 
day for sixty days could settle the spelling problem for 
him to date. 

Principle. — The student should direct his spelling 
study toward those words in his written vocabulary 
which he commonly misspells. 

The words which fall into one child's misspelled list 
vary widely from those of another ; and though the lists 
frequently have words in common, it has been found that 
the only definitely effective procedure is to give each child 
his own specific misspelled list. The usual spelling-book 
lists are essentially worthless, to say the least; and for 
the following reasons : — 



72 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

i. By far the greater number of words commonly 
found in spelling books is not found in the child's written 
vocabulary. 

2. Of the words found in both spelling book and writ- 
ten vocabulary of the child, by far the greater number is 
not found in the child's misspelled list. 

3. The child studies the spelling book without dis- 
crimination ; hence wastes most of his time on lists which 
he should not study, and in the end fails to get his efforts 
definitely directed toward his misspelled list. 

What the child needs is the direction of his study to the 
20 to 60 words of his misspelled list, rather than an offer- 
ing of a book of several thousand words, an amazing por- 
tion of which he will never use, many of which he will use, 
but never misspell, and many omitted which he does mis- 
spell. Plainly told, the spelling book contains some 
values, but they are hopelessly mingled with monstrous 
and uncompensating wastes. 

Principle. — Spelling lists are valuable in the degree 
that they are individual and specific, and they are ap- 
proximately worthless in the degree that they are com- 
mon and general. 

It should be frankly stated that the work of deriv- 
ing a fairly complete list of a child's misspelled words 
is no small undertaking. Until further research can 
give us further guidance, the most feasible plan that 
the spelling teacher can adopt is the plan of seizing 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 73 

and listing misspelled words wherever found, and direct- 
ing efforts accordingly. Research will some day give 
us a theory that relies more on prevention and less on 
cure. 

There is another fact of importance which must work 
into the theory of spelling teaching. The fact that a 
child can correctly spell a word orally is not to be taken 
to mean that he will not misspell it in writing. So, too, 
the fact that he can correctly spell isolated words in lists 
is not safe evidence that he will not misspell the same 
words in composition ; that is, when the attention is on 
the thought rather than on the spelling. Written spell- 
ing is largely a matter of motor coordinations ; and the 
group of writing muscles is different from the speaking 
group. The fact that with most of us the writing of fa- 
miliar words is mainly a matter of habit, a matter of reflex 
motor coordinations, accounts for much of our annoying 
misspelling. Thus if an individual has written "the" 
so often that he writes it habitually, when he starts to 
write "that," he may actually write "the" by force of 
habit; or if he has come to write "his" in a reflex way, 
he may write "his" for "her," etc. Such errors are 
therefore due to motor incoordinations, and the child 
should find and correct such errors for himself. They 
begin to appear as soon as written spelling becomes 
automatized, and research has shown that they may 
account for forty or even fifty per cent of child errors ; 



74 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

and they do commonly account for from fifty to ninety 
per cent of adult errors in spelling. 

Principle. — The real test of spelling ability is the abil- 
ity to spell as a means, rather than as an end. 

We are still in the day of arguments for simplifying 
spelling ; and perhaps it will not be foreign to our purpose 
to formulate a principle to guide in thinking spelling re- 
form, even though we may not subscribe to the spelling 
reform movement. We may first see the law in the con- 
crete. If it should be argued that dropping one n in 
the word " planning" would simplify the spelling, we 
should have to object on the ground that it would make 
communication less ready and definite; for in such a 
sentence as " Planning is hard work," the loss of the n 
would render meaning doubtful. So, too, the spelling 
of the words "to," "too," and "two" might be changed 
to the one common form "tu" or even "to," but the cues 
to differentiated meaning would at once be lost, and fa- 
cility of communication would be lost with the cues to 
meaning. We are not to forget that spelling is only a 
tool for handling experience, and that any tool must be 
shaped by the work which it is to do. No one would 
contend that writing should be altered to fit a pen, but 
the pen is fashioned to suit the writing ; so, too, we may 
hardly contend that spelling should be simplified for the 
sake of the spelling; but the real problem is whether 
or not the simplification of spelling will increase the fa- 



THE SUBJECTS OF STUDY 75 

cility of communication. It is true that, other things 
equal, the simpler the spelling, the more ready the word, 
the tool; but no words that are spelled differently in 
order to distinguish their meanings should have their 
spelling so changed that the words lose their individual- 
ity. 

Principle. — The question of simplifying spelling must 
be settled on the ground of increased facility of communi- 
cation. 



CHAPTER III 
MOTIVATION 

We have defined the aim of education as the direction 
of the individual's experience to the end of making him 
willing and able to realize the values of life. We have 
seen that the values of life are ends that are good for every 
one, and that the only cue to those values is experience. 
We have seen that the race has treasured up its best 
experiences ; and from this greatest of all treasuries the 
school selects those experiences which it is believed will 
be of most value to the life of the child. The school 
arranges and classifies the selected experiences in a con- 
venient form which we call the course of study, each, 
class of experiences being called a subject of study. 
Finally, we have seen the specific aim and value of each 
of these subjects of study in working out the great aim 
of education; and we are now ready to take up the 
next aspect of our problem ; namely, how shall we make 
the child willing to receive the racial experiences which 
we believe will function in life values ? 

In educating a child, we are dealing with a will, with 
its manifold impulses quite as ready to discharge in op- 

76 



MOTIVATION 77 

position to the teacher's will as they are to unify with it. 
At the very threshold of the teaching act, therefore, the 
teacher meets the serious problem of influencing child 
will. The teacher never meets a more important prob- 
lem; neither is there a more neglected problem than 
this very problem of securing motives that will lead the 
child to give his time, his attention, and his efforts 
willingly to the ends which education sets up ; and just 
in the degree that the will of the child agrees in purpose 
with the will of the teacher may the purpose of the teacher 
be realized. What the child does willingly is his own 
act indeed ; but what he does against his will is not his 
own act, but that of another. The will of the child is 
the real child ; hence no training counts unless it reaches 
the will, and the more fully it reaches the will, the deeper 
the self-development. 

Principle. — No training is valuable unless it calls 
forth an emotional willingness; and the depth of the 
inspiration is a measure of the self-development. 

Before a thing can reach the mind, the mind must 
react, must attend to that thing. At every conscious 
moment of life, thousands of stimulations through eye, 
ear, touch, nose, tongue, etc., are beating for admission 
into consciousness. The number of tactual stimulations 
alone is legion. Mind cannot respond to all of these 
stimulations ; but at any given moment, attention goes 
out to that one of the whole multitude of stimuli which 



78 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

is most promising in significance. The other stimula- 
tions fail to command the mind, for the reason that they 
fail to win in the momentary struggle for attention. 
The mind reacts, then, in favor of the chosen stimula- 
tion, and that one alone is for the moment received. " No 
reception without reaction," says James. Teachers 
would be astonished if they knew how commonly their 
efforts are lost in this way. Some little favorite idea 
flits into the child's mind, and the teacher loses the child, 
and the child the teacher. 

The stimulations which flow into the brain from the 
various sense organs are currents of nerve energy. Energy 
cannot be destroyed, and these nerve currents must even- 
tually issue from the brain in the form of motion. If the 
visible movement is inhibited, the case is not different, 
for we still have inner, and perhaps outer, changes. ""No 
impression without correlative expression," says James. 
Every time the teacher succeeds in winning the child's 
attention, therefore, she must accept the consequence 
that what she is saying or doing will eventuate in con- 
duct. This is the very essence of the teaching act ; and 
only the teacher who can command the attention of the 
child can be teacher in reality. 

Principle. — "No reception without reaction; no im- 
pression without correlative expression." 

Every teacher knows that the thing that fails to inter- 
est the child fails to move him : and that the more in- 



MOTIVATION 79 

teres t we can lead the child to take in any subject or in 
any work, the more willingly and energetically the child 
works. Likewise, any teacher who has had a circus pro- 
cession pass by while school is in session knows where the 
interest, and with it the attention, of the school is found 
in such crises. The threat or the entreaty may haul 
back the attention for a moment, but at best it quickly 
flits away the moment the ear is attracted by a strange 
sound from the street. Whether the attention is volun- 
tary or involuntary, it always goes in the direction of the 
keenest interest at the time ; and the boy who stays away 
from the interesting ball game to work in accordance with 
the orders of his father is acting in the direction of his 
keenest interest, whether that interest be in work or in 
escaping condemnation and woe. 

Principle. — The sole motive of mind is interest ; and 
attention always chooses the most interesting object. 

What, now, is interest? We may again find our 
answer in experience. A man traveling along a country 
road is caught by a downpour of rain. We may assume, 
with all reason, that his most pressing purpose is now 
to find shelter from the storm. He casts his eyes behind 
him, and in his distress he sees a rabbit run across the 
road; but that does not now interest him; he sees a 
crow alight on a post ; but that too fails to interest him ; 
lastly he sees in the distance a covered carriage approach- 
ing, and his whole heart goes out to the carriage, for the 



80 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

reason that it may serve him as means of realizing his 
most dominant purpose at the present time. Briefly 
told, the covered carriage is most interesting to the 
man because it is useful, indeed, the most useful object 
in sight, as means of realizing a dominant end. 

Again, a zoologist is shipwrecked and finds himself in 
grave dangers of the deep. His most pressing purpose, 
we may say, is now self-preservation. Clinging almost 
hopelessly to the floating wreck, the man casts his eyes 
upward toward heaven. He sees a seagull swoop by; 
yet this scientist, who has spent his life in bird study, 
is not now interested in the seagull ; he sees a flying fish 
flit across the waves, but this too is not interesting; 
finally he sees a lifeboat bearing down upon him, and 
immediately his feeling to the very depth of his soul 
goes out toward the lifeboat. Nothing in the world is 
now so interesting to him, for the reason that it is the only 
object in the world that promises to realize for him his 
most dominant purpose. 

Once more, a shiftless schoolboy refuses to study his 
arithmetic lesson. The schoolmaster cautions, but the 
boy does not heed. Eventually the boy finds himself 
in an adjoining room, and confronted by an enraged 
schoolmaster, with the rawhide pending. At that mo- 
ment the boy's most pressing purpose is perhaps to es- 
cape punishment; and though he has already ignored 
caution, refused to study, now he pleads for the privilege 



MOTIVATION 8l 

of studying the lesson. The lesson is now keenly inter- 
esting to that shiftless boy, solely for the reason that it 
promises to serve him a very useful purpose. 

Principle. — Interest is a feeling of usefulness of ob- 
jects as means of realizing a present purpose. 

Strictly speaking, purpose is always present, though 
its end may be future. We may even say that the end 
is always future ; for the reason that the moment an 
end is present, it is realized; and hence no longer a 
motive. 

Here we must erect a danger signal. If we give to 
the term " usefulness" the mean and impoverished sig- 
nificance that some philosophers have ascribed to it, we 
lose our way ; but if we give it the legitimate and prac- 
tical meaning, serviceableness as means to ends, we then 
have a practical term for pedagogy, rather than an im- 
ported term to express a narrow theory. If there is 
anything in the world that is useless, then what can its 
existence mean ? We must believe that God has made 
nothing useless, and that man cannot possibly be inter- 
ested in useless creations. The plain and unassuming 
fact is, music and fine art and literature and everything 
that God or man has created has been created for some 
use ; and things are cherished because they satisfy some 
purpose. Music is useful, highly useful, in that it gives 
us the very happy and practical end, internal harmony. 
Art is useful, very useful, in that it satisfies our longing 



82 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

for harmony in the objective world; and literature is 
useful, and every bit of beauty which it can reveal is 
the very essence of usefulness, in that it makes for har- 
mony of humanity. Harmony within the soul, harmony 
without the soul, and harmony of all souls are certainly 
the most satisfying ends that the human mind can con- 
ceive; and music, fine art, and literature are useful in 
the degree that they serve as means to these ends. It 
is in this sense that the term " usefulness" is employed 
in this work. 

We are thus to believe that the immediate basis of all 
interest is use, and we may now inquire what the ulti- 
mate basis of interest is; that is, what the individual 
has use for. Again we must call in experience to teach 
us. 

Perhaps the most interesting thing in the world to 
a rat dog is a rat; for the obvious reason that the rat 
satisfies one of the most dominant instincts of the rat 
dog. Give such a dog a glimpse of a rat, and he will be 
spellbound with interest. Pull the dog away, and he 
will struggle to return, and neither tempting food nor 
sound thumps will abate his zeal ; and the sparkling eye, 
the " pricked" ears, and the emotional tremble all testify 
to the keenness of the interest which the rat dog finds 
in the rat. If the teacher could command such interest 
in teaching arithmetic, we can only surmise the result. 

Again, one of the most interesting experiences that 



MOTIVATION 83 

a race horse can meet is racing ; for the reason that he 
is "bred and born" to race. A cat cares nothing for 
racing, for she is without the racing instinct. It is the 
mouse which interests the cat; and the race horse, in 
turn, is not moved by the mouse. So, too, the game 
cock and the bulldog are keenly interested in combat; 
the mother of any species is keenly interested in her 
young ; the waterfowl, in water ; the robin, in the worm; 
and every living thing, indeed, finds its interests reli- 
giously secured and bounded by its instincts. The in- 
dividual may make the measures, but nature has set the 
bounds. 

Let a person try to explain the fact that one child likes 
green peas and another refuses them, and he will quickly 
be driven back to the conclusion that the cause lies 
somewhere in the native constitution. One man is 
attracted by cooked turnip, while another avoids such 
a dish; and each follows his inborn tendencies. If an 
instinct has been implanted in the nervous mechanism 
of an individual of any species, that individual will find 
interest in anything that promises to satisfy that instinct. 
Every impulse is instinctive at root, and without impulse 
there could be neither knowledge nor feeling, hence no 
interest. Ultimately, therefore, a thing is useful to an 
individual in the degree that it promises satisfaction 
to impulse ; and without impulse there could be nothing 
useful, since no will. It thus happens that while an 



8 4 



PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 



individual is interested in anything that is useful to him, 
only those things are useful to him which satisfy his 
instincts. 

Principle. — The immediate basis of all interest is 
use ; the ultimate basis is instinct. 

Since the instinct is such a vital factor in education, 
we need to know what the human instincts are. So far 
as known, the most important human instincts, viewed 
from the educational standpoint, are as follows : — 

List of Human Instincts 



i . Communication 

2. Expression 

3. Experimentation 

4. Exploration 

5. Manipulation 

6. Construction 

7. Ownership 

8. Curiosity 

9. Play 

10. Rivalry 

1 1 . Secretiveness 

12. Imitation 

13. Anger 
14.- Fear 

15. Vanity 

16. Affection 



17. Sympathy 

18. Sociability 

19. Jealousy 

20. Envy 

2 1 . Pugnacity 

22. Emulation 

23. Physical Activity 

24. Mental Activity 

25. Independence 

26. Reverence 

27. Shyness 

28. Collecting 

29. Hunting 

30. Hunger and Thirst 

31. Cleanliness 

32. Modesty 



MOTIVATION 



85 



To this list of instincts, already long, may be added 
a string of reflexes, whose values are less evident in teach- 
ing; namely, — 

Human Reflexes 

12. Trembling in fear and 



i . Sucking 

2. Creeping 

3. Smiling 

4. Grasping 

5. Crying 

6. Biting 

7. Carrying objects to 

mouth 

8. Checking breath in lis- 

tening 

9. Frowning 
10. Pouting 

n. Crouching in shame 



rage 

13. Gesturing 

14. Standing erect in con- 

fidence 

1 5 . Clenching fist in anger 

16. Walking 

17. Climbing 

18. Chewing 

19. Lying down or sitting 

down to rest 

20. Swallowing 

21. Coughing, etc. 



We are often told that man has more instincts than 
any other animal; and since his nervous mechanism is 
most complex, we can readily understand how the nerve 
currents can give us a rich supply of impulses. It should 
be understood that there is no common agreement among 
psychologists as to the list of human instincts. Most 
psychologists are ready to believe that the list is larger 
than we yet know; and scarcely do we have an exten- 
sive research in this field that does not lay claim to having 



86 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

isolated instincts hitherto unnamed. It should also be 
understood that the instincts that are already recognized 
overlap one another in many ways, and that for peda- 
gogical purposes, at least, this interrelation and over- 
lapping is not objectionable. 

The importance of the instincts in the motivating 
process is so great that the teacher must be quick to dis- 
cern them in experience; hence we shall treat them 
concretely. 

i. Communication. — Every normal child loves to 
talk. Few people have any conception of the strength 
of the talking impulse, though all of us have been bored 
by it at times. In the State Normal School at Balti- 
more, children have been tested in the effort to measure 
the communicating instinct, so annoying at times to 
teachers ; and the following experiment, directed toward 
the questioning impulse of childhood, will illustrate the 
strength of the communicating instinct in one of its as- 
pects. 

Three six-year-old children were taken into the testing 
room, where two large live lobsters had been provided. 
The children were given permission to look at the lob- 
sters for ten minutes, but they were instructed not to 
speak until permission was given to ask all the questions 
they wished. At the end of the given time, the children 
were separated, one at a time remaining in the room 
with the lobsters, and permission given to ask any and 



MOTIVATION 87 

all questions at will. Questions were answered as rap- 
idly as possible. Results : The first child, a girl that 
was designated "a dull child" by her teacher, asked 
ten questions in two minutes. The second, a boy desig- 
nated " ordinary" by his teacher, asked eighteen ques- 
tions in four minutes. The third, a "very bright girl," 
was a veritable little gattling gun of questions, for she 
peppered the experimenter with forty-eight questions in 
ten minutes. 

Any teacher of experience will readily concede that this 
rapid fire of questions was prompted by keen interest. 
There were at least two instincts at the root of the inter- 
est; namely, curiosity, which prompted the desire to 
know, and communication, which here served as means 
of satisfying the curiosity, as well as a happy end in itself ; 
that is, the interplay of ideas, or communication. 

Now and then a child enters school with little or no 
inclination to talk. Such a child may sit for days with- 
out speaking a word, and perhaps the teacher cannot 
even induce him to tell her his name. Such cases never 
mean that the communicative instinct is not there; 
but they only point to the necessity of finding a motive. 
If, now, the superior insight of the teacher will lay hold 
of something, of anything, that will stir the child's in- 
terest; if she will increase that interest even to the 
exploding point, she may be assured that when the 
child has something that he wants to say, something 



88 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

that he feels he must say, he will perforce break his 
silence and fall a ready victim to the teacher's skill in 
motivation. 

2. Expression. — We have already accepted James's 
principle, " No impression without correlative expression." 
This, as we have seen, is only another way of saying that 
every nerve current that flows into the brain through 
ear or eye or minutest cell finds a better or worse pre- 
formed pathway out to the muscles. Indeed, unless 
these incoming currents result ultimately in better ad- 
justment of the individual to his environment, we should 
be at a loss to understand their meaning. The moment 
a nerve current reaches a muscle, that moment the mus- 
cle responds in the only way that it can, and we forthwith 
have motion. If the movement is of the vaso-motor 
muscles, the facial blood supply will be affected, and 
paling or blushing expresses the fact ; if the nerve current 
reaches the heart, then the heart beat and the pulse give 
expression; and if a surly affront sets loose a nerve 
current that ends in an emotional overflow into the 
muscles of the arm and back, an angry blow may give 
expression. 

If the teacher would get a clear view of the expressive 
instinct in its simple form, she may find a five-year-old 
child just coming into the scribbling habit. She may 
seat herself with the child at a writing table, and tell the 
child that she is about to write a letter to the child's ab- 



MOTIVATION 89 

sent mother or father or grandmother; then hand the 
child a paper and pencil and tell him that he too may 
write a letter to the absent one that he loves. When 
both letters are finished, the teacher may compare her 
letter with that of the child. The difference will be found 
to be chiefly a difference of freedom of expression. The 
child's is the more free. It is so free, indeed, that the 
teacher cannot read it, while the teacher's expression is 
bound down by conventional forms which the child does 
not understand. Now let the child give voice to his 
letter, and the conventional forms of speech reveal to the 
teacher what she has not hitherto been able to understand, 
yet which the child understood, and which in his simple 
and primitive way he had expressed. Here, in the child- 
ish scribbling, is the expressive instinct at work in its own 
primitive way, and simply putting out into the world 
ideas which are genuine indeed, but which are lost to the 
world through lack of conventional symbols. This simple 
objectification of the inner being is the beginning of better 
things ; and without this expressive instinct there could 
be no education. 

3. Experimentation. — Experimenting means doing 
something with things to see what will happen. The 
mere statement of what experimentation is, is sufficient to 
touch off the memory of manifold childish experiments 
that serve to reveal the universality of such traits in 
children. Indeed, it would seem that the most annoying 



90 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

pranks of childhood are the outcropping of this racial 
habit; yet it is an extremely hopeful instinct. The 
habits of the scientist are rooted in it, and it is one of the 
most vital and enduring cues to progress. Thus a child 
who has been cautioned to let the stove alone must per- 
force experiment with that forbidden thing at the first 
opportunity, to see what will happen. Sorely in need 
of experience, the child lays hands on the stove, gets the 
experience, and is at once wiser and better adjusted to his 
environment in at least two ways; namely, (i) he knows 
the stove better, and (2) he understands and is more 
ready to receive admonition. 

When man finds himself short of experience in any 
given field, experimentation is an instinctive way of 
struggling to produce that experience. The common use 
of the terms " apprenticeship," " laboratory," and " in- 
duction," in the fields of education, points out the wide- 
spread play of the experimenting instinct. 

4. Exploration. — The exploring instinct is the native 
tendency to widen acquaintance. It is natural that peo- 
ple keep on going so long as healthy and full of energy; 
and when this impulse is lacking, the physical condition 
has become pathological. We can all understand the 
situation of the mother who goes visiting with her healthy 
children. It is not natural that the children "sit down" 
and be "good children." The case is far more hopeful 
for the child who must ransack the cellar, the pantry, the 



MOTIVATION 91 

barn, the housetop, and every nook of the homestead. 
Ask the child why he thus ransacks the place, and he can 
give no better reason than that he is "just seein'." It 
is not different with a man who finds himself in a new city, 
and must "stroll out to see the town"; and when one 
town has been fully explored and there is "nothing new 
to see," he complains of ennui, and seeks relief in another 
town. 

Like all other instincts, exploration brings its troubles. 
One of the most trying and persistent school trials is 
truancy, and truancy is commonly rooted in the exploring 
instinct. The boy who fakes school because he is "tired 
of school " may be just a miniature traveler, with a spirit 
sufficiently daring to "stroll out to see the town" or the 
circus or the fishing pond. The rod is a poor remedy 
for such truants, for the truancy is an indication that the 
truant is filled with more energy than the school is utiliz- 
ing, and the child seeks ways of spending the overplus. 
When the walls of our schoolrooms have been widened 
out to include the farm and the factory, the railroad and 
the fishing pond, the excursion will serve to relieve the 
hitherto pent-up stress of the exploring instinct, and this 
racial habit will become our ally, rather than our enemy. 

5. Manipulation. — The manipulating instinct is the 
native tendency to handle things. The moment a child 
sees a thing, we expect him to try to get hold of it. The 
hand differentiates man from the animals below him, and 



92 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

nature has not forgotten to give us an instinctive ten- 
dency to magnify this difference by usage. Not all in- 
stincts are ripe at birth. Some of them, notably sex 
affection and sex jealousy, do not mature even till ado- 
lescence ; yet the grasping impulse, a branch of the ma- 
nipulating instinct, is ready-made at birth. The child 
will grasp an object in contact with its palm the moment 
its breathing is fully established. The manipulating 
instinct is one of the racial habits that persist through 
life. The carpenter and the blacksmith find it necessary 
to display the sign " Hands off" above their work benches. 
Administrative boards of zoological parks and of art 
galleries require visitors to check their canes and um- 
brellas before they admit them. These are precautionary 
measures aimed at protection from the manipulating 
instinct ; and without them, men of gray hairs and women 
of polite form and children of inexperience would be 
poking the animals, and " feeling" the pictures with 
their canes and umbrellas. The school child, then, 
instinctively handles things ; and the use of the pencil 
and of the scissors, paper folding, measuring, painting, 
and handwork in general are naturally interesting to a 
child. It is, therefore, easy for the teacher to over- 
employ handwork, and to allow it to degenerate into mere 
"busy work." 

Manual training, as the name indicates, is rooted in the 
manipulating instinct. While we must admit that the 



MOTIVATION 93 

mere hand-training value of manual training has received 
relatively too much emphasis, there is no question 
that the world's progress has always been conditioned by 
the human hand. It is a valuable mind that can con- 
ceive ideas in advance of its time ; but the mind that has 
made the hand a dexterous instrument for working out its 
conceptions and giving them real existence in the world 
is the mind that thinks in definite, tangible terms. Here 
lies the highest value of manual training; and a mind 
that can think rectangle or circle or square will think 
and know these forms better after it has coordinated the 
hand movements in actually making them. 

Principle. — The aim of manual training is (i) to 
develop habits of thinking in definite, practical, tangible 
terms of doing ; and (2) to give the mind control of the 
hand as a vital instrument for realizing its purposes. 

6. Construction. — The constructive instinct may be 
characterized as the native tendency to form larger wholes 
out of smaller wholes or parts. A child builds a house 
with his blocks, yet cares so little for the house when it is 
done, perhaps, that he finds more pleasure in kicking it 
down and then rebuilding. It should be noted that the 
destructive instinct is the constructive instinct acting 
negatively; and that destruction may become so in- 
teresting to an unguarded mind that its acts hark back to 
vandalism. A boy may actually delight in killing birds, 
breaking windows, " smashing" watermelon patches, 



94 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

burning buildings, torturing animals, and so on ; and the 
conduct of man is such at times that we can explain it only 
through the constructive-destructive impulse. On one 
extreme we have the doings of the " black hand"; on 
the other, the childish pulling to pieces of Christmas toys. 
War is rooted in this, among other instincts; so is the 
Brooklyn Bridge, and the tunnels beneath the Hudson. 

Combined with the manipulating instinct, the con- 
structive instinct is doubly potent. Nearly all children 
love carpenter's tools ; and they readily spend hours in 
hammering and sawing and making. Fortunate is the 
child that has his little box of tools and a bench where he 
can make his toys ; indeed, where he can realize his ideas 
whether good or worthless. 

The mental side of construction, which we may call 
pure construction, or constructive imagination, if we 
prefer, is the most vital key to progress. Before the 
Brooklyn Bridge existed in reality, it had to be con- 
structed in idea ; and an idea antedates every invention. 
The human mind loves to manipulate its own experiences, 
and with these experiences as elemental wholes or parts, 
it works over the outer world in its own secret laboratory, 
and strives to remake that world to suit its own purposes. 

7. Ownership. — The tendency to claim the exclusive 
right to a given bit of property is instinctive. A child 
early manifests the disposition to control the use of his 
toys, and to reveal jealous and even pugnacious impulses 



MOTIVATION 95 

when thwarted in that control. This disposition deepens 
and perhaps refines with age. Property rights are rooted 
in this instinct, and its powerful and impulsive nature 
is seen in the modern strike, in the infamous graft, and in 
the common, all-absorbing race for wealth. When man 
finds things useful to him, he is at once interested in 
those things, as we have seen ; and hence he readily wills 
to own them. Not even friendship and love escape this 
law. The individual who is in love instinctively seeks 
to own the object of that love, and marriage finds its 
double root in the instincts of ownership and affection. 
Thus the home, rooted as it is in two of the most powerful 
human instincts, deeply moves us all as one of the most 
inviolable institutions of man. A man will shoulder his 
gun and go out and fight and even die, if need be, for his 
home; and more and more the world is coming to the 
belief that the home-wrecker is one of the lowest and 
meanest villains that the human mind can think. The 
time-worn "Home, sweet home" has never grown stale, 
for the reason that it touches two of the most vital chords 
in the human breast. 

Since the ownership instinct is such a deep-seated and 
versatile impulse, it is one of the most potent motives 
known to psychology. The most natively interesting 
thing in the world to man is his own personal self, his 
own free will ; and for the reason that every purpose and 
every impulse is a purpose and an impulse toward fur- 



g6 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

therance of self. The self feels that its purposes and its 
impulses are its own means of self-advancement; that 
they are indeed its own free will ; and free will must be 
recognized as the ultimate end, the last trench from which 
man will not retreat, but die rather than yield it up to 
become the property of others. Since man so thoroughly 
wills to own his own will, his own self, he also thoroughly 
wills to own whatever he believes furthers his own free- 
dom, his own self. We can therefore understand matri- 
mony, and why man will fight and die for his loved ones ; 
for he is struggling to realize his own free will, and there 
is no higher motive. Religion itself is grounded in self- 
emancipation ; and education and government aim at the 
same end. The most powerful preacher, the most power- 
ful teacher, and the most powerful lawgiver are men who 
can make people see and understand how religion, educa- 
tion, and government emancipate the self; and religion 
itself is the most harrowing problem known to a man 
who cannot think himself free from the grave, and free 
in all eternity. So, too, the happiest of all thoughts is the 
clearly established conclusion that we shall be free in 
eternity. 

Such a powerful motive as the ownership impulse must 
have its mighty dangers ; and we accordingly find one 
of the ugliest sins, namely theft, rooted in this instinct. 
The individual wills to own property that promises to 
be useful to him ; and if this will cannot be otherwise 



MOTIVATION 97 

realized, the individual who has not solved the prob- 
lem of self-emancipation may realize the ownership of 
property through theft. Theft is a problem for the 
pathological psychologist. It is easy to understand how 
a sane man can afford to lose his horse, but impossible 
to think that a sane man can believe that he can afford 
to be the thief. A hundred dollars may replace the 
horse ; but how can we understand a man who gives his 
ideal self, his own image of God and the noblest thing he 
owns or can own, — his own free will, — for a poor dumb 
beast ? The price is immeasurably dear, and nothing less 
than a touch of mania can explain the act. The world is 
rapidly coming over to the conception that all crime is the 
outgrowth of perverted thinking, perverted mind, in- 
sanity. At the root of every crime lies an instinct ; and 
the ownership impulse often drives man to wrongs. 

8. Curiosity. — Curiosity may be briefly defined as the 
craving after universal life. We all have the feeling that 
outside of our own immediate life, in the world about us, 
there is a large and ever unfolding life that is akin to 
our own. We instinctively feel that everything, indeed, 
is a manifestation of the same creative hand that gave us 
life ; and that we must know this wide and universal life 
about us, if we are to understand our own. It is the crav- 
ing to know this universal life which we call curiosity; 
and this very instinct is the rootstock of religion. 

The child who sees a strange animal craves to know the 



98 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

life of the animal ; and he showers his questions upon any 
one whom he thinks can satisfy him. He strives instinc- 
tively with every sense he has to get into the life of the 
animal. Just why he would know the animal, the child 
cannot tell ; but the knowledge is useful to him in satis- 
fying his craving to know the animal. So, too, in the 
crowd that suddenly gathers on the street, there is some- 
thing that the passerby is curious to know, and he must 
stop and investigate ; and when he finds that it is only 
the familiar street fakir, he is next curious to know just 
what jewelry he is offering this time, and who are his vic- 
tims. It is often remarkable how we are interested in 
every move of our neighbor ; and yet not in the familiar 
doings, but in those that promise something new. We 
cannot allow him to make a move that we do not under- 
stand. Thus curiosity has come to have a bad meaning ; 
yet it has a respectable meaning as well. 

The curious instinct is one of the teacher's faithful 
allies. Every new move and every new thing seems to 
challenge the attention of the children, for they would 
understand. Yet a little closer study of this subject 
shows us that it is not really the absolutely new thing, 
neither the absolutely old, that attracts; for the mind 
must have some experience related to the new thing, 
before that thing can win the attention. Thus the scien- 
tist is attracted by many things in plants or in animals, 
which other people fail to see. Similarly, a thing ab- 



MOTIVATION 99 

solutely familiar to the mind, both in fact and in purpose, 
would be handled reflexly, if at all, and hence fail to win 
in the struggle for attention. Thus a man passes a lamp 
post on the street corner. Day after day he passes it, 
until at length it so fails to attract his attention that he 
seemingly forgets that it is there. Now let the lamp post 
receive a new coat of paint, and the man's attention is 
drawn to it at once. It is the new coat on the old lamp 
post, the novel in the old, that challenges the man's curi- 
osity, and thus wins the attention. 

On the other hand, suppose a man passes a cripple 
frequently on the street. Time after time he passes him, 
till at length he fails to note the poor cripple, and the 
passing becomes subconscious. Now let that man in his 
travels suddenly come upon that same poor cripple on the 
streets of Paris, and at once he sees him, indeed loves him, 
perhaps, for the reason that it is a familiar face in a new 
and unexpected place. The new in the old calls forth 
the curious instinct, and interest and attention result. 
So, too, the joke, indeed all wit, is interesting because it 
reveals new meaning, new life, in familiar terms. 

Principle. — The old in the new experience is interest- 
ing, for the reason that the strange mingling challenges 
curiosity. 

9. Play. — Play may be defined as activity in its 
freedom ; and since the most interesting thing known to 
mind is its own freedom, every mind instinctively loves 



IOO PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

play. Play may therefore become one of the most cap- 
tivating as well as one of the most efficient tools that the 
teachei can command. It may also become, and often 
does become, one of the most effeminate instruments 
known to the schoolroom. Such a tool, at once powerful 
and dangerous, needs a full treatment in pedagogy; hence 
a special chapter is devoted to it later on in this work, 
and a further treatment is not attempted here. 

10. Rivalry. — Life itself is a mighty struggle for 
existence; and the creature that ceases to strive, soon 
ceases to exist. Since two or more individuals may 
strive for the same end, rivalry varying from a healthy 
competition to a bitter life and death struggle may ensue. 
Rivalry is not an unworthy impulse, not an ugly and 
selfish motive. The teacher should rather view it as a 
means of stirring the child to his deepest and noblest 
efforts to win. The athlete tells us that at no time in the 
foot race is he stirred to such efforts as at the moment he 
hears the breath of another at his ear, about to pass him ; 
yet no one will criticize the motive. The same feeling 
moves the dumb brute. When the great Dan Patch 
appears on the race course for his "warming up" miles, 
he appears alone ; but when he takes the word for the 
final mile, a "running mate" is with him ; and now and 
then when the driver would stir the horse to his best 
efforts, the running mate is pushed alongside, and the 
mighty horse reels off a quarter in twenty-eight seconds, 



MOTIVATION IOI 

with a mile perhaps in one minute and fifty-five seconds. 
Now let the same Dan Patch pace his mile " without 
company," and try as hard as he may, he drops back to 
a mile in two minutes or slower. 

Rivalry is preeminently a masculine motive ; yet with 
either sex the teacher should believe that it may be a valu- 
able motive. There is no live schoolroom that is not 
moved by it ; but the moment it embitters to envy, the 
school purpose is likely to be defeated. It is a healthy 
rivalry that we want ; a rivalry that stirs the child to his 
best efforts, yet wills no evil to competitors. Such ri- 
valry is a value of life, for it is good for every one. We 
need to bring forth the best there is in the individual, and 
rivalry is one of our means. The boy who solves twenty 
problems in algebra may solve yet another five in order 
to outdo his fellow, and still there need be no wrong to 
any one ; but if the strife takes on a morbid, selfish aspect, 
cheating is likely to appear ; and this very cheating is the 
evil which the teacher must be on the lookout to detect, 
when keen rivalry is being played as motive. 

ii. Secretiveness. — One who has not investigated the 
instinctive reactions of the human being may be as- 
tonished at the claim that we all have instinctive ten- 
dencies to hide from others much that we know, much 
that we feel, and much that we will and do. There are 
some things that are so intensely personal that the in- 
dividual refuses to disclose them to any living being; 



102 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

and others that he is ready to disclose to the trusted few, 
with the caution " don't tell any one." Thus the middle- 
aged woman hides her age, though she could hardly give 
a sensible reason for so doing. A young girl does not care 
to hide her age, neither does the aged woman. At eight- 
een, the young girl boasts how old she feels, but when she 
is forty she is as " young as ever" ; and when she is eighty 
she finds pleasure in advertising her years. So, too, a 
man who has slipped and landed on the sidewalk first 
looks eagerly about him to see if any eye has caught him, 
then he pulls himself up, brushes off, and unwillingly 
admits the fact if accused. We all keep up a running 
secret society. 

The secretive instinct is often directly opposed to the 
expressive instinct. The human mind often becomes a 
battle ground for these two opposing impulses. We all 
know how "hard it is to keep a secret;" and the fact 
that we do usually tell our secrets in time indicates that 
secretiveness is the weaker of the two instincts. On the 
other hand we all know how interesting a secret may be, 
and it is often for no other reason than that it satisfies 
the secretive instinct. Many a child has been won over 
by a teacher who trusted him with a secret ; and the fact 
that a boy may feel that he is the sole class custodian of 
the way to work a given problem may give him a keen 
delight in the problem, and a bit of motivating and valu- 
able conceit in his mathematical ability. 



MOTIVATION IO3 

12. Imitation. — The imitative impulse is one which 
every one has noted. We are all what we are largely 
through the workings of the imitative instinct. We all 
really live much alike, sleep much alike, eat much alike, 
marry much alike, talk much alike, think much alike, and 
so on. Even idiots confined in institutions imitate one 
another ; and the most polished courtier is not at all im- 
mune to imitating some little attractive trick of hand or 
head or tongue of the rudest clown. Psychological in- 
vestigation reveals the fact that every idea is attended 
by an impulse that is bound to discharge it unless in- 
hibited. We are all of us frequent victims of non-inhibi- 
tions that reflect the doings of others. Thus the boy who 
has been to the circus is giving out evidence on every 
hand. So, too, the serious farm hand, returning from 
the county fair, must race his plodding driver. Perhaps 
there is no child who does not reveal in manifold ways 
some one or more of the personal traits of his teacher. 
The man teacher who parts his hair in peculiar style need 
not be astonished to find many heads of the schoolroom 
instinctively taking on the same style ; and the woman 
teacher who must by nature limp in her walk need not 
be surprised soon to find forty limping gaits. 

We never know in advance what little quip will appeal 
to personal idiosyncrasy, and hence with or without al- 
teration become a possession of the nervous mechanism ; 
but fortunate, very fortunate is the teacher if the leaders 



104 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

of her classes and of the school are individuals whose per- 
sonal traits are quite as worthy of imitation as her own. 
There is no question but that teachers do not count 
enough on the influence from this source, and hence on 
the one hand they fail to multiply their own influence by 
affixing the positive coefficients, and on the other hand 
they allow the negative values to be included from less 
happy sources. The schoolroom can never realize its 
fullest possibilities in life values, until the worthy per- 
sonal traits revealed there are brought out into the fore- 
ground, and the unworthy traits buried in a deep but 
perhaps silent condemnation. 

The imitative impulse manifests itself as early as the 
second half year of life, and rapidly grows in strength. 
It is stronger in childhood than at any subsequent period 
of life ; hence it is of the highest importance that the pri- 
mary school be rich in influences worthy of imitation. 
Pure diction, pure morals, self-respect, clean habits, ready 
tolerance, and a full willingness to be of service to others 
are all of the highest value there. 

13. Anger. — Anger is one of the emotions. Every 
emotion is caused by an impediment to the free flow of 
conscious processes. Nerve currents are thus dammed 
up and overflow into the muscles through pathways pre- 
formed and fixed by heredity; hence every emotion is 
instinctive. When the individual meets a "snub," his 
tranquillity of mind is disturbed, his thinking is checked 



MOTIVATION 105 

for a moment and is thrown back upon itself. The 
dammed-up brain currents at once begin to rise and soon 
overflow through preformed pathways, and we see the fist 
instinctively clenched, the brows dropped, the jaws set, 
the lips drawn back, perhaps enough to show the teeth 
as of old, the heartbeat is quickened, the breathing 
deepened, and the emotion is on. 

While it may not be at once evident just what values 
those angry bodily reactions have for civilized man, we 
can readily see what they meant to primitive man, whose 
right was might ; yet inspection reveals that the emotion 
of anger arises only in unusual situations, that seem to call 
for all the reserve force of the organism in order to meet 
them. The function of the emotion is therefore evident, 
for the emotional overflow stirs up the deep-seated in- 
stinctive reservoirs of force, and concentrates all the 
available energy of the organism on one line of reaction. 
The completely angered man knows but one reaction, and 
that is resentment ; and his resentment easily savors of 
ancestral days. 

Principle. — The function of emotion is to concentrate 
the forces of the whole organism on one line of reaction. 

Anger, therefore, has its value for education. When 
some unusual situation arises and demands more than 
ordinary efforts, the emotion is our concentrating agent. 
When the boy meets a problem in arithmetic which tries 
him through and through, he needs to feel a kind of inner 



106 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

wrath at himself that will not allow him to be downed. 
When the rights of a girl are trampled on, she needs to 
be stirred by a feeling of righteous indignation that will 
refuse to accept the wrong. 

The emotions, as well as the intellect and the will, need 
training. The man who angers when no unusual effort 
is called for, and who froths and fumes about little of 
consequence, is a spendthrift of energy. The human 
being in the toils of an emotion is a high-pressure 
engine; and since feeling may be in control, the acts 
may be vicious and blind, as angry deeds often show. 
It is the anger that refuses to see the values of life 
trampled on, that we should nourish in the rising gen- 
eration. We need anger that will stir at the thoughts of 
greed and graft and life for self alone ; but we want anger 
that readily gives place to smiles when impure motives 
have been put to flight. 

14. Fear. — Fear is another of the emotions, and it 
plays a vital role in every life. In the great struggles for 
existence, as well as for purposes, which characterize all 
human life, any individual may meet opposition which 
is too mighty for him, even though emotion has called 
up the reserve forces. Venture under such conditions 
may be foolhardy, and so nature has implanted within 
us the emotion of fear. It is the function of fear to hold 
back the individual from an over-aggressive life. Thus a 
man who would steal is held back by the fear of penalties ; 



MOTIVATION 107 

the man who would lie, by the fear of discovery; the 
man who would kill, by the fear of the hangman's noose. 
Better still, the self-emancipated individual will not steal, 
for he fears self-condemnation ; he will not stoop to lust, 
for he both loves and dreads to lose his own ideal self; 
and the religious adherent will not break the command- 
ments, for he fears a jealous God. 

Every teacher knows what a wholesome fear means in 
the schoolroom. Indeed, it does not require a very deep 
study of human conduct to reveal the fact that there are 
times in every life when fear is the ultimate hope. We 
are all strong at times, and we are all weak at times ; and 
in our weaker moments we are only human when we drop 
below our life standard. In such moments, fear, and not 
always the most worthy fear, is the tonic that bolsters us 
up ; and nature was not against us when we were given 
the instinct of fear. 

1 5 . Vanity. — Every human being loves to have others 
feel that he is of value in the world ; and we all feel 
and must continually be repressing the innate tendency 
to show off to the best advantage. A two-year-old child 
bumps his head on the floor, finds that it pleases on- 
lookers, and so he repeats to the limit of silliness. So, too, 
the teacher struggles to have her school appear to the best 
advantage when the visitor is at hand; and the gray- 
haired man, no longer able to show as he once did in the 
world, must sit by the hour and relate the marvelous 



108 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

doings of his younger days. The hopeful mother, when 
callers are at hand, brings forth her daughter to "speak 
her piece" or to "sing a little" ; and the father calls on 
the son to "show the folks how strong you are." All this 
comes, too, when there is but a minimum of entertain- 
ment in it, and a maximum of display. Men seldom 
minimize the size of the fish they catch or the size of 
their chests or the value of their automobiles ; and women 
are so vain in dress that it would be at once ridiculous to 
specify. Yes, we are all vain. Vanity is instinctive; and 
one of the most despairing of thoughts is the belief that 
we are not appreciated. 

We are not to believe that vanity is of no avail. The 
fact is, we need to bring forward every bit of superiority 
we can, and keep it in the foreground where it can feed the 
imitative instinct. This would be a wretched world if we 
brought forth our inferiorities and held them up for imita- 
tion. While it is true that our vanity often shows us up 
to disadvantage, the lack is in judgment. The conceited 
schoolboy is not to be reproved for his impulse to display, 
but rather for displaying something unworthy of display. 
When he has accomplished a superior piece of work, dis- 
play is in order ; and we need to bring the superior work 
forward where it can sing its own praise. It is the poor 
judgment, which offers trifles for attractions, which should 
meet the heel of criticism. Thus in the vanity instinct, 
as in all instincts, we may discern natural tendencies to 



MOTIVATION 109 

the highest good ; and before we would attempt to kill off 
an instinct, we should do well to count the cost. 

1 6-18. Love, Sympathy, Sociability. — Teachers may be 
credited with more or less familiarity with the motivat- 
ing power of love. We have all seen the boy strain him- 
self for good behavior in order to please a teacher whom 
he loved; and we have seen the girl exert herself to 
the limit because she could not disappoint her favorite 
teacher. The love instinct is, perhaps, stronger in woman 
than in man; yet there is no question but that, with 
either boy or girl, affection is a strong element in the 
teacher's influence. While teachers often go wide of the 
mark in the effort to win the affections of their students, 
yet we must not fail to take advantage of the native in- 
clination to love and to be loved. 

We are all actually given at times to the feeling that we 
are not appreciated in the world as we would be; and 
under such conditions many a child has been stirred to 
his very best efforts by a little commendation, a smile of 
appreciation, or a look of confidence. But the teacher 
should beware of unjustified praise, and of the everlasting 
smile, that is soon discovered by the child to be nothing 
but the cheapest flattery, an empty form which soon 
comes to sicken him with disgust. The human being is 
born to court affection, and we must believe that ne must 
have some one to feel with him, some one to understand 
him, some one to encourage him, some one to love him. 



IIO PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

Perhaps we are all too ready at times to love others, and 
often for no other reason than that they have first loved 
us. The moment an individual feels that he is without 
love in the world, that moment he sinks to despair that 
smacks of suicide. 

Love always carries with it the feeling of sympathy, 
and it would be impossible to love a person without feel- 
ing with that person. The food upon which sympathy 
feeds is similarity of experience ; that is, people with 
similar experiences understand and can feel with one 
another. Children of any school have multitudes of ex- 
periences in common, and the feeling of sympathy among 
them is actually wider and deeper than teachers are ready 
to believe. One who has had the toothache can readily 
feel for another who is afflicted with it ; one who knows 
from his own experience what indigestion is can readily 
sympathize with and overlook the crabbed disposition of 
one suffering of dyspepsia ; and after we have experienced 
any misfortune, we are better able to lend sympathy to 
one who has met the same misfortune. On the other 
hand, one suffering from headache should hardly expect 
deep sympathy from one who has never experienced head- 
ache, and for the reason that there is lacking the essen- 
tial unity of experience. It is therefore evident that it is 
the teacher who knows the experience of the child, who is 
in a position to move him through sympathy. 

Without sympathy there could be no such an impulse 



MOTIVATION III 

as sociability. That feeling of harmony among individ- 
uals which we call sociability is based on unity, on the 
one hand, and diversity, on the other. Before two 
individuals of any species can live and work together, 
they must be sufficiently alike to enable them to under- 
stand and sympathize one with the other; yet suffi- 
ciently unlike to reveal the advantages and the needs of 
so living and working together. An Indian and a white 
man can live together with difficulty ; and if all men were 
blacksmiths, any one would have little need of the others. 

The social feelings are deeply rooted in the social in- 
stinct, and they are at the root of the harmony of human- 
ity. Every bit of real literature nourishes these feelings ; 
and every effort toward education, whether by school or 
by church or by state, must touch them. Instinctively, 
the school child is inclined to sympathize with and help 
his fellows; but only fortunate life- experiences with peo- 
ple can realize the potential values in the social instinct. 
This points out one of the most important functions of the 
school, namely, the development of the moral will. 

After we have pruned down the conception of morality 
to its simplest form, we are confronted with the fact that 
the moral will is simply the will to serve the good of the 
race. The thief, the liar, the murderer, the drunkard, 
the talebearer, the backbiter, are all immoral, because 
they bring disharmony into the race; and the rescuer, the 
truth teller, the preacher, the teacher, the Christ, indeed, 



112 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

are all moral in the degree that they willingly serve the 
race. The death of Christ reveals the most moral act 
known to man, and it was prompted by the feeling of 
sympathy for a needy race. 

The act of an individual acting under compulsion is 
neither moral nor immoral with reference to that in- 
dividual, but it is non-moral. Such a will is not free, 
and not in sympathy with the act ; indeed, it does not 
will the act in any true sense. So, too, if there is no 
alternative, no choice, there is no real act of will. The 
point to be noted here is, before an act becomes moral, 
the individual must be in sympathy with that one of 
two or more conflicting impulses which he chooses to 
discharge because it is good for every one. Without 
the social instinct, there could be no impulses to serve 
the race ; hence morality is rooted in the social instinct. 

Principle. — The moral will is free will which wills 
ends that are good for every one. 

19-22. Jealousy, Envy, Pugnacity, Emulation. — When 
we come to the instinct of jealousy, we find teachers by no 
means ready to accept it as a legitimate motive. Many 
teachers indeed look upon a jealous child as upon one 
"who hath a devil." The jealous impulse is egoistic, 
and for that very reason it is morally dangerous. Yet 
we must not lose sight of the fact that life is a struggle, 
and that the individual who will not jealously guard his 
own rights will soon be deprived of them. When our 



MOTIVATION II3 

rights have been wrongfully appropriated by another, 
we need the impulse of envy to move us to recover them, 
and the pugnacious impulse to motivate us to fight for 
them. In their refined forms, all of the egoistic impulses 
must play important roles in the schoolroom ; and there 
are few schoolrooms that do not harbor some children 
who sorely need to be spurred by these deep-seated 
motives. 

We should not believe that the fighting impulse must 
discharge through the fist, or that it can be appeased 
only with blood. The world is full of wrongs that need 
such fighters as Gladstone and Lincoln and Jane Addams 
and Roosevelt to meet and down them. The fighting 
instinct is far more potent in man than in woman ; yet 
the boy who gives up with the first hard problem in 
arithmetic needs to have his fighting spirit quickened; 
and the girl who is not keenly jealous of her own good 
name, or moved by envy toward the wretch who has 
stolen away her pure thoughts, is sadly in need of ego- 
istic motives. 

When we come to the instinct of emulation, we find 
an impulse plainly elevating. Emulation is the impulse 
to strive against inferiority. The boy who is unwilling 
to be distanced in the race ; the girl who is anxious to 
do "as well as the rest"; the teacher who would not 
"get behind the times"; the woman who would not be 
seen in an antiquated dress; and the man who "would 



114 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

not make a fool of myself by trying to talk on such a 
topic" are all moved by the emulative impulse. 

The teacher should often inspire the child by calling 
attention to what he has done before, or to what she 
expects him to do now, or, with caution, to what others 
have accomplished. Family tradition and school tradi- 
tion are legitimate emulative motives. They may serve 
as standards below which the individual is unwilling to 
fall ; and the fact that others have done so much is a 
keen incentive that we may do as well. 

23-24. Physical and Mental Activity. — We now come 
to the two master instincts, the generalissimos of impulse, 
which are revealed in the well-nigh incessant activity 
of body and of mind. The human body is richly and 
completely supplied with nerve endings, so that when 
any part receives a stimulus in the form of motion, a 
current of nerve energy at once transmits the stimulus 
to the most ready switchboard, be it in the spinal cord 
or in the brain, and that nerve current sooner or later 
finds its way out through the motor nerves to the muscles. 
Muscles function in movements of the body for adjust- 
ment. From the moment of the first breath till the last, 
the human body is not without its movements. Millions 
of stimulations, coming in from multi-millions of nerve 
endings, keep up an incessant activity. The visceral, 
vasomotor, indeed, the whole host of muscles, are full of 
activity; and if any muscle fails to receive its quota 



MOTIVATION 115 

of stimulations to call out its normal exercise, it loses 
tone, the lymph circulation is suppressed, and the physi- 
cal balance is at once interfered with. If this condition 
widens and deepens, we soon experience the familiar 
feeling of lack of exercise, which means that the physical 
mechanism is in possession of more energy than is being 
called out, and ennui, or the feeling that nothing at hand 
is worth while, is perhaps upon us. 

Not only does physical inactivity tend toward physical 
weakening, but without an active life the actual purposes 
of life itself could not be realized. Only a life of doing 
can reach the values of life ; and thus we see once more 
the function of our instinct equipment. 

Mental activity is in a way the concomitant of physical 
activity, though not of all physical activity. The psy- 
chologist now realizes that every mental process, be it 
thinking or feeling or willing, is completely determined 
by accompanying brain processes. This is the funda- 
mental conception of modern psychological thought; 
and it has been called the " theory of psychophysical 
parallelism." There are thousands of processes going 
on in the brain which give us no mental concomitants; 
but the significant fact here is that we never have and 
cannot have any mental processes, either conscious or 
unconscious, without brain processes to determine them. 
Mind, in brief, is brain function ; and, as we have already 
noted, every organ, be it stomach or liver or kidney or 



Il6 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

brain, has its function. The function of the brain is 
mentation, or mind. 

When the individual would fall asleep, he seeks a 
quiet and comfortable resting place, relaxes all bodily 
strain possible, and closes his eyes. With the stimula- 
tions through ear and eye and muscle and skin thus 
cut off, the brain activity is curtailed, and under such 
conditions a tired brain soon ceases to function in mind, 
and unconsciousness results. If the would-be sleeper 
is unable to curtail the brain stimulations, — that is, if 
he has the toothache or indigestion or fits of nervousness, 
or if he is too warm or too cold or his bed is uncomfortable 
or noises disturb him, — he will hardly be able to sleep ; 
yet if his nervous energy supply becomes so exhausted 
that his neural mechanism fails to respond, he falls 
asleep. If sleep is not complete and dreams appear, it 
means that the brain is still responding in a more or less 
feeble way to stimulations from without its own imme- 
diate sphere. But given sound sleep, the supply of ner- 
vous energy is gradually restored, till at length stimula- 
tions are of sufficient strength to awaken the brain 
processes to the point of consciousness. The sleeper 
forthwith awakes, and the flow of blood to the brain is in- 
creased till the normal state of consciousness is regained. 

The fact that should be noted here is that both phys- 
ical and mental activity are instinctive responses to ex- 
ternal stimulations. The sense organs are instruments 



MOTIVATION 117 

adapted to receive each its own rate and form of vibration ; 
the sensory nerves transmit the stimuli to the spinal cord 
or to the brain ; the brain is at once a registering station 
and a great switchboard for switching sensory nerve 
currents over to appropriate motor nerves, with renewed 
impetus, perhaps, and thus the individual is consciously 
or unconsciously adjusted to his environment through 
movements. The recording mechanism in the brain fixes 
the experience so that it is available for future use. 

The mental accompaniment of the brain processes is 
what we call mentation, or mind. Through mind, the 
individual is conscious of his experiences, and he can 
think them into relation so that a past experience may 
determine the best reaction to a present stimulation. 
The human being is thus a complex organism which ad- 
justs its reactions to its environment, so that its days 
may be long in the land. Anything and everything 
which serves as a means of effecting that adjustment is 
useful, and hence interesting to the individual if dis- 
covered; and since all activity, both physical and mental, 
is in the deepest and truest sense instinctive, it follows 
that the individual finds use only for those things which 
satisfy his instincts. Once more, therefore, we may note 
that while the immediate basis of all interest is use, the 
ultimate basis is instinct. 

25. Independence. — The innate tendency of the 
individual to follow his own inclinations, rather than 



Il8 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

those of others, is called independence. The teacher 
who has tried to motivate a stubborn child ; the mother 
whose infant child has shouted back "I won't;" the 
English king who was apprised that the tea had been 
thrown into Boston Harbor ; indeed, any one who has 
seen an attempt to move one against one's will has seen 
the independent impulse at work. 

We all love to have our own way, since the most attrac- 
tive thing that the mind knows is free will, or, briefly, 
freedom. Men vote for their freedom, and they fight 
for their freedom. There never was a war but that was 
rooted in this very instinct, independence. It is the duty 
of the teacher to foster the independent spirit. We do 
not want the "bull head," but we do want students who 
persistently work out their arithmetic and their Latin 
constructions. We want children who are not ready to 
be led into anything and everything ; and we want men 
and women who have been taught to think for themselves 
and act for themselves. Our schools of to-day would 
not be the victims of so many cheap fads and so many 
shallow "methods," if teachers themselves were fully 
in the habit of thinking for themselves and creating and 
doing for themselves. 

26. Reverence. — In reverence we meet another of 
the emotions. If the teacher will devote a little time to 
an intensive study of at least one of the emotions, she 
may not only better comprehend the emotion, but at 



MOTIVATION 119 

the same time discover how instincts have come to ap- 
pear in the race. Instinct is but another name for a 
racial habit; and a racial habit is formed by repeating 
an act so often that it becomes imbedded in the neural 
mechanism; that is, it finally becomes reflex and in- 
heritable. 

Way back in the primitive life of the race, man was a 
dangerous enemy of man ; and the egoistic impulses were 
in control. A man who lived with his family on one side 
of a mountain would steal over under cover of darkness 
and fall upon and destroy the sleeping family of a man 
on the opposite side of the hill ; his only reason therefor 
being that he willed to destroy the man's family ere the 
man could destroy his. In time, men learned to com- 
bine for mutual protection from their common foes, 
and the most highly revered man of the tribe was chosen 
chief of the tribe. Implements of war appeared, among 
which was the helmet, so valuable in protecting a vital 
spot from the blows of the enemy's weapons. It was 
readily found a matter of the highest importance to as- 
sure and reassure the chief of the respect and confidence 
of his followers ; and there was no better way at hand 
for revealing this reverence than to remove the helmet, 
bow the head, and bend the knee in front of the chief. 
Such an open exposure was surely evidence of confidence 
as well as of reverence. It must be noted that these 
bodily attitudes not only expressed the feeling of rever- 



120 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

ence, but that they tended in time to cause and promote 
that feeling. Being found highly useful, these bodily 
attitudes were consistently repeated through the years 
and through the generations, until we to-day tend in- 
stinctively to assume these attitudes in reverence and 
worship. Thus we have come to inherit the habits of 
our ancestors ; and the lifting of the hat in reverence to- 
day, we may believe, smacks of the days of our distant 
ancestors. It is significant that the acts of assuming 
these bodily attitudes are favorable to, and causal fac- 
tors of, the emotion of reverence. 

Reverence is an emotion quite as serviceable to-day 
as at any time in the history of the race. We should 
still take off our hats to superior merit ; we should still 
bow our appreciation of an act of universal good; and 
we are not to forget that the man who bends his knee 
and bows his head in worship is at once stirred by a 
more full and complete reverence than he could be with 
these causal factors omitted. Thus it is revealed that 
useful reactions are repeated in the race in the degree 
that their usefulness makes them of interest to the race ; 
and once more it appears that the immediate basis of 
all interest is use. 

We are now in a position to go a step farther in our 
treatment of interest. Our study of the emotion of 
reverence has revealed the fact that instincts are ulti- 
mately founded on use ; that is, all of our racial habits 



MOTIVATION 121 

have come to us as reactions which the race has found 
useful. Racially considered, therefore, the ultimate as 
well as the immediate basis of all interest is use. It is 
to be remembered, however, that teaching deals with the 
individual; and the individual inherits, and does not 
produce, his stock of instincts. With reference to the 
individual, therefore, the final cause of interest is the 
instinct. From the teaching standpoint, then, our most 
direct and helpful view of interest is that it is immediately 
based on use, and ultimately on instinct. 

27. Shyness. — The shy impulse is an instinctive pro- 
tection against an overassertion of the social instinct. 
We must all have a measure of suspicion of the motives 
of others, if we are not to fall ready victims of over- 
confidence. The reactions of babies in extending their 
arms to others, the wide-open eyes, and the steady, in- 
viting look, all point to the social instinct; while the 
reverse actions of shrinking back, turning the head away, 
yet watching in an Indian-like way, all point to the shy 
instinct. So, too, the adult is shy of strangers, and wisely 
refuses to trust people with whom acquaintance, ex- 
perience, is not established. The proverbial "gold 
brick" and the whole multitude of "confidence games" 
may be taken as our justification. 

In the school, shyness often gets into our way, but it 
is always surmountable through experience, acquain- 
tance ; and the teacher's skill in handling motives should 



122 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

readily win the shy child. On the other hand, shyness 
checks the child's impulses to be too forward, and many 
times a day the shy instinct keeps the child out of the 
teacher's way. The "new" teacher finds a ready ally 
in the shy impulse, for it allows her time to get her an- 
chors set ere the turbulent waves set in. 

28. The Collecting Instinct. — The impulse to make 
collections of things is not so impelling as many of the 
impulses already referred to, yet all of us manifest the 
instinct in various ways. Boys are interested in getting 
together a collection of birds' eggs or of cigar wrappers ; 
girls gather up collections of postage stamps or of foreign 
coins; and the art gallery, the zoological, botanical, 
and industrial museums, reveal the same tendency in 
adults. 

The collecting instinct is a faithful ally in geography 
teaching ; and a collection of history relics is valuable in 
realizing history teaching. The biological and the phys- 
ical sciences are furthered by the impulse, and the pri- 
vate library grows with its aid. The exploring truant 
may be led captive by it, for he may be the very chap who 
knows where the insects thrive, where the plants grow, 
and where the products of industry are to be found. 

29. Hunting. — We now come to an instinct which, 
like pugnacity and rivalry, is far more potent in man 
than in woman. The girl plays "hide-and-seek," hunts 
four-leaved clovers, and seeks the solution of puzzles, to 



MOTIVATION 123 

be sure ; but woman seldom seeks the forest, the jungle, 
or the wild prairie in pursuit of game. Man has always 
been the mighty hunter, the Nimrod ; for he is impelled 
by his mighty instincts of rivalry, pugnacity, and hunting 
to outwit, overcome, and "bag" the game. We should 
not believe that hunting savors of thirst for blood. The 
truth is far enough from that. No sportsman loves to 
shoot the tame duck, for it sits still to be shot ; but he 
will strive for hours to outwit the sharp-eyed wild mal- 
lard, or to get the fleet-winged canvasback. It is not 
the sitting rabbit that the sportsman would shoot, but 
the one that flies down the field so fast that most men 
must fail to bring him down. It is not the barnyard 
fowl that he seeks, but the wary grouse, the shrewd fox, 
the alert and fleet-footed deer. 

The hunting instinct has never brought much value 
to the schoolroom. It is a powerful impulse in the boy, 
and it is likely to be most highly developed in the very 
boy that is hard to move in school work; namely, the 
youthful hunter, the fisher, the explorer. Set such a 
boy to work on a composition setting forth his exploits 
in hunting or fishing, and the teacher may be astonished 
at the results. Some progressive primarians have de- 
vised a few games appealing to this instinct, but they 
have not gone far. The fact that the hunting instinct 
is in a fair way to die out of the race, for the reason 
that the disappearance of wild game threatens the starva- 



124 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

tion of this impulse, may be taken as evidence that here 
is one instinct that will never yield to the schoolroom 
the value even now possible. 

30. Hunger mid Thirst. — Perhaps the two so-called 
sensuous instincts, hunger and thirst, are the most read- 
ily comprehended impulses found in the human being ; 
hence they have been subjected to many experiments. 
Their relation to interest is easily seen. A man who all 
his life has disliked the taste of cheese may come in time 
to despise cheese, for the reason that it disagrees with 
his taste. He has no interest in cheese, for the reason 
that it does not appeal to his hunger instinct. Now let 
this same man discover that cheese is a commodity that 
may give him a rich income in business, and he may soon 
manifest the keenest interest in cheese. A new use for 
the cheese has brought out interest. That use is money 
making, at the root of which is the property, or owner- 
ship, instinct. 

Likewise, a man is easily convinced that his immediate 
food interests are hardly at the control of his will, but 
that they are due to something in his native constitution ; 
that is, their final basis is instinct. These two instincts 
are also of ready service in revealing the fact that in- 
stinct is not unchangeable ; for every one knows that our 
tastes come to change. Food whicn we once disliked, 
we come to like, and vice versa. Finally the motivating 
power of instinct is clearly revealed by hunger and thirst ; 



MOTIVATION 125 

and it is evident through them that there is hardly a 
limit to the motivating power of interest. Thus any 
man, perhaps, will steal if he is hungry enough ; and no 
code of ethics is interesting to a starving man. Motive 
is in proportion to interest, and interest is in proportion 
to the feeling of need or use ; and ultimately use is based 
on instinct. The lesson of drunkenness is one of our 
mightiest lessons on the psychology of motive. It should 
be noted that drink is food ; and thirst, a form of hunger. 
A man who has no use for drink is not interested in drink ; 
but a drunkard is interested in proportion to his appetite 
— the inflamed hunger instinct. When that appetite 
becomes all-absorbing, it is all-interesting, and hence 
all-motivating. Thus the drunkard may give up all for 
drink. Now that drunkard may still live for his wife and 
his family ; but not so keenly at times as for drink. The 
reformation of the drunkard must proceed along either 
or both of two lines of motivation; namely, (1) the 
appetite may be stilled, say by the Keeley cure, and so 
the drinking motive weakened; and (2) the nobler 
motives may be strengthened by stirring up their basal 
instincts of pride (vanity), affection, sympathy, pug- 
nacity, ownership, rivalry, emulation, etc., until their 
combined motivating power exceeds that of perverted 
thirst. 

The school values of the hunger and thirst impulses 
are both positive and negative, though apparently the 



126 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

teacher's work with these instincts is at present mainly 
negative in character. Neither the overfed nor the under- 
fed child is in condition for school work. Much of our 
teaching of hygiene is amazingly ineffective, for the reason 
that the real use of hygienic living is not evident to the 
child; hence it lacks interest to him. We shall never 
realize effective teaching of hygiene until we apply our 
law of interest by revealing the use, or need, of hygiene. 

It was pointed out in the article on the biological 
studies that the headache, the eyeache, the inability to 
attend, etc., are not utilized as they should be in teaching 
hygiene ; yet bad feeding is the most common cause of 
all these ailments. We are a race of bad feeders, and our 
bodies are shouting their protests on every hand. Until 
children are taught to see the effects of our bad living, 
we have little reason to expect that better habits will 
become fixed. Not more medicine, but more sense, 
more regimen, is our hope. 

The sensuous impulses are perhaps the oldest in the 
race, and their deep-seated claims have accumulated 
strength through all the years until they have become 
dangerously obtrusive. Like all the instincts, they are 
not bad in themselves ; but they may easily dehumanize 
man, and leave him little more than a brute. They must 
therefore be brought under control. We must under- 
stand them, and the school has a sacred duty here. 
Some day our schools, with teachers and patrons strong 



MOTIVATION 127 

in the sense of duty, and fearless in the cause of life values, 
will strive to give the race a better and safer understand- 
ing of the sexual instinct and the reproductive system 
of the human being. It is a shame that we will longer 
neglect this duty. The reproductive system is certainly 
of no less importance to the race than the digestive, 
circulatory, or other systems. Life values are fearfully 
curtailed by ignorance in this holy sphere, yet we sit 
mutely by and mistake ignorance for modesty, and prefer 
woe to weal. Pray, let us believe in enlightenment; 
believe in teaching and giving understanding sorely 
needed to realize the values of life. We shall never have 
a complete education, a fully equipped and magnificent 
manhood and womanhood, until every impulse is under- 
stood and controlled. Any impulse is controlled by 
pitting other impulses against it, and we are to control 
the sensuous impulses by appealing to the instincts of 
pride (vanity), pugnacity, jealousy, envy, emulation, 
reverence, cleanliness, and shame. United forces can 
overcome any disharmonizing foe. 

- 31-32. Cleanliness and Modesty. — Cleanliness and 
modesty are two impulses which are so elusive that psy- 
chologists long hesitated to accept them. We have all 
seen children who could throw doubt on the instinct to 
be clean ; and others who could shake our belief in an in- 
stinct of shame. Yet the fact that children are hard to 
keep clean must not be allowed to mislead us ; and super- 



128 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

ficial views must not establish a belief in no modesty. 
We adults are never quite free from dirt, yet the impulse 
to be clean is with us ; and it is everlastingly sending us 
to the bath and to the laundry. The fact that the whole 
host of impulses is continually leading the child into 
things which cover him with dirt, leaves the cleanly 
instinct with meager opportunity to show ; but we must 
get deeper than appearances. 

If a two-year-old child be taken when the play impulse 
is stilled, his cleanly impulse may show to better advan- 
tage. If the experimenter will then direct the child's 
attention to the back of his hand or arm, and plaster a 
bit of gum or of dirt upon it, almost invariably the little 
creature strives to brush the plaster away. So, too, 
when a child falls into mud, if the play instinct is not 
ready, the cleanly instinct sends him to the house to be 
cleaned, and crying may accompany him. An adult will 
wash his hands and his face about as often as he finds 
them dirty ; and in spite of some evidence to the contrary, 
men dislike to wear untidy linens, and women avoid 
unclean aprons and neckbands and shirtwaists and shoes. 
Yes, we all have the instinct to be clean ; and parents, 
teachers, physicians, and boards of health are utilizing 
it. Indeed, it is an instinct which has a rapidly growing 
use as a motive to life values, and never were bathtubs 
and flypapers and screens and insect powders and the 
whole host of tools for cleanliness so common as now. 



MOTIVATION 129 

Enlightenment in the usefulness of such ends has brought 
all this about. 

The modesty impulse is quite as elusive as the cleanly 
instinct. Children often grow well into adolescence with 
little evidence of shame; yet here again we have not 
gotten beneath appearances. Every parent and every 
teacher relies upon the modest motive to protect the 
child from indecencies ; and the ready blush that adorns 
the cheek when indecencies appear, reveals the deep- 
seated reactions which characterize all emotions. In 
a barefoot test for modesty, conducted by the pedagogical 
department of the State Normal School at Baltimore, 
twenty-four school children, twelve of each sex, ranging 
from ten to thirteen years of age, were used. Out of the 
whole group no one was found who did not reveal in- 
creased heartbeat, contraction of the flexor muscles, 
turning or "dropping" the head, and aversion of eyes or 
drooping of eyelids, when he found that he was discovered 
barefooted by visitors. 

It is rather a remarkable coincidence that, while the 
modesty instinct is one of the last to be accepted by psy- 
chologists, it is probably true that it has for ages been 
more effectively and commonly used with definite design 
in motivation than any other instinct. Leaders of the 
young have always relied upon it to secure decent con- 
duct, and we should hardly ask for its wider use to-day 
among respectable people. The fact is, it has often stood 



I30 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

single-handed and alone in the struggle for decency; 
and, as pointed out in the treatment of the sensuous 
impulses, we have, and are, shamefully neglecting to 
reenforce it and vitalize it by a complete hygienic educa- 
tion. 

The Motivating Process 

Having finished our immediate treatment of the native 
reactions of the human being, the attention of the teacher 
is again called to the fact that without these native re- 
actions of the child, these impulses, we should have no 
way of influencing the child mind. If the child were so 
lifeless that he would react in no way to the teacher's 
attack, there could be no education. Thus it appears 
that the human instincts are of the highest value in the 
educational process. 

It should be understood that the psychologist does 
not and cannot make a sharp distinction between a 
reflex and an instinct. If a reaction to a stimulus is 
a simple act independent of conscious control, such as 
is shown when an infant grasps an object in contact with 
its palm, we allow it to pass by the name of reflex. But 
if there is a series of reflexes, one serving as cue to the next, 
such as is shown by a beaver building a dam, or by a 
bird building a nest, we call it instinct. The difference, 
in so far as there is a difference, is that of complexity. 
For practical purposes, all instincts are reflexes. The 
two are similar in origin, and both have their physiolog- 



MOTIVATION 131 

ical bases in preformed pathways in the nervous system. 
Both represent such forms of reactions upon environment 
as the race has found highly useful ; hence they have been 
repeated through the ages until thoroughly imbedded 
in the neural mechanism, and therefore hereditary. 

From the teaching standpoint, the important fact to 
be noted concerning the instincts is our oft-repeated 
fact, that they are the ultimate bases of all the individual's 
interests. Ofttimes we can account for interest, such as 
curiosity, in no other way. Since no child can be given 
an impersonal experience unless he first has an impulse 
to reach out for it 3 the very first step of any act of teach- 
ing must be to make sure that a motive for the child 
mind is at hand. 

Principle. — The child must always have a motive 
for getting impersonal experiences, and one of the most 
vital problems of teaching is that of securing efficient 
motives. 

The practical world has long pointed the finger of 
scorn at school teaching ; and it has said that the school 
does not fit children for real lives of usefulness. "The 
school gives book learning, but the child is unable to use 
his learning when he gets out of school," is the usual 
charge. There is altogether too much truth in this 
charge. Schools really have been teaching facts to chil- 
dren with too little reference to their use. The inevitable 
result is that along with this lack of use has gone the lack 



132 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

of interest ; and the school has not only been a dull grind 
to thousands, but the thousands have actually been 
unable to see the use of much which the school taught 
and is teaching. All this is sadly wrong. Our schools 
must give us men and women of more red blood, ready 
for the world of industry ; and education must be a prep- 
aration for life through participation in life. 

Our study has revealed to us that the child must see 
some use of subject matter before he can have interest 
in it. Thus it happens that the very thing that teaching 
has so long neglected to do well is the very thing that 
the child mind demands first. The child has no motive 
until he sees need ; and the need revealed to him must be 
a legitimate use for the subject matter about to be pre- 
sented in teaching. To illustrate, the teacher who writes 
the multiplication table of 3's on the board, and tells the 
child to learn it, is proceeding with no child motive 
evident. If there is a motive there, it is external and 
not legitimate ; that is, the motive is that of doing what 
the teacher orders ; and since no legitimate use for the 
table is evident, the effort put forth in getting it is drudg- 
ery. Now if the child is first led to see that he needs the 
table to enable him to play "ring toss," his motive will 
be measured by his interest in playing "ring toss." 
Then, too, the child who uses the table in playing his 
game is actually putting the table to use in a legitimate 
way; for he is using the number facts to compute his 



MOTIVATION 133 

earnings in his serious business of trying to win the game. 
All this the child can and does comprehend ; hence there 
will be no question as to his ability to use what he has 
learned. 

From the teacher's standpoint, the steps in the moti- 
vating process are easily discerned ; and since we have 
already indicated them, we may here state them as fol- 
lows : — 

Principle. — Steps in the motivating process. — (1) 
Determine the child's impulses, what he likes to do, the 
ends he values ; (2) seize or devise situations in which the 
child sees his need of means of reaching these ends; 
(3) bring forth the subject matter which will serve as 
means to these ends. 

The child's impulses have already been treated at 
length. Talking about things, handling things, making 
things, asking questions about things, experimenting with 
things, exploring things, playing with things, and so on, 
are all useful to children in satisfying their native im- 
pulses ; and we must interpret child conduct that way. 
In no other way can we comprehend childish doings and 
understand children. Here is one field in which the 
experienced teacher should easily outshine inexperience ; 
and no teacher can move far up in the scale until she 
understands children. 

The further fact that one group of impulses is strong 
in one child, and a different group is stronger in another, 



134 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

indicates not only that the teacher must know children, 
but that she must know the specific children with whom 
she works. The dominant impulses of one child may be 
vanity, pugnacity, independence, physical activity, etc. 
Such is the equipment of the fighter, the "bully." Those 
of another may be secretiveness, sympathy, mental 
activity, and the like; and such is the equipment, per- 
haps, of the boy who is run over by the " bully. " 

When the teacher has determined what the child wants 
to do, the ends he seeks to realize, she may justly feel 
that he is the victim of her prowess ; for she can seize or 
devise a thousand situations in which the child sees his 
need of means of realizing his ends. Then, having created 
a demand, since she also controls the supply, she has 
"cornered the market" and is dictator. Thus if the 
child suffers of headache, he readily feels the need of 
preventive means, and the teacher brings forth the hy- 
giene of digestion in a real and impressive way; if the 
children are pestered by mosquitoes, they readily feel 
the need of means of checking them, hence the teacher 
brings forth a bit of nature study, with its oil remedy. 
If the teacher would devise a writing motive for first- 
grade children, she may appeal to the ownership impulse, 
and ask, "How many of you would like to write your 
name in your book, so that we may all know whose book 
it is ?" When they are all impelled to write, the teacher 
brings on the writing lessson. When she would teach 



MOTIVATION / 135 

the forty-five combinations, dry arithmetic that they are, 
she shows the class the "bean bag" game ; and when the 
play impulse goes out toward the game, the arithmetic 
tables are brought in on the installment plan, as fast as 
the class sees the need. 

There is nothing new in this motivating process, for 
we have all proceeded in this way for years, and we are 
still proceeding in this way. When we conceive our need 
for a pair of shoes, we are moved to buy shoes, and the 
shoe store is sought. When the farmer finds that his 
fences are rotting down and no longer able to withhold 
his stock, he is moved to build a new fence. If a man 
needs bread, he is moved by his need to go all the way 
to the bakery and pay five cents for a loaf. He may 
even buy five loaves at the five-cent rate; but let the 
baker try to induce him to buy twelve loaves, and he 
at once begins to measure his needs. A reduced price 
may move him to buy the twelve loaves; but if the 
baker then tries to induce the man of twelve loaves to 
buy fifty loaves, a further reduction will at least be 
necessary to meet the reduced need, if the man is to buy. 
Now there will finally come a time when the bread buyer 
will refuse to buy more bread at any price ; and that is 
the point at which he can conceive no use for more bread. 
The moment he finds it impossible to conceive how he 
can use more bread than he already has, the motive to 
buy is gone; and it will return only with need. 



136 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

Our conceived needs are often so directly in response 
to instinct that any one can discern the fact. Thus an 
angry man feels that he needs some one to give a beating, 
though the only possible explanation is to be found in 
the fact that his fighting instinct, pugnacity, wants 
something to discharge itself upon. So, too, the woman 
of social status feels that she needs a new hat, though 
nothing but vanity or emulation, perhaps, could possibly 
set aside the well-preserved hat of last season. So it 
appears that the doings of our ancestors are often the 
only possible explanation of our own conduct ; and the 
deep-seated tendencies which our ancestry has handed 
over to us come into our education whether we will or not. 
If, then, teaching is to lay hold of the roots of experience, 
it must respect the impulses, the racial habits, the in- 
stincts. One of the most hopeful signs now visible in 
the teaching sphere is the growing, even though often 
unsound, use of play. Play is an impulse tremendously 
alive in children; and we now turn our attention to 
play. 



CHAPTER IV 

UTILIZATION OF THE PLAY IMPULSE 

The critics from the old-time school tell us that the 
school of their day was a place of work, but that the school 
of to-day is a place of play. They mean to tell us by 
this criticism that the schools of to-day are dealing in 
soft pedagogics, and that we are turning out a genera- 
tion without backbone. This is a sharp attack upon 
present-day schools ; and before we accept or reject the 
criticism we must make a candid study of the play move- 
ment, and discover what there is of value in it. 

i. The Psychological Aspect of the Play 
Movement 

We may recognize three forms of conscious activity: 
namely, play, work, and drudgery. Play is conscious 
activity in its freedom. Thus a boy strides a stick and 
calls it his horse. He rides it as much as he pleases, 
whips it as much as he pleases, puts it away when he 
pleases, and with as little care as he pleases. All this 
is conscious activity in its freedom; hence it is play. 
We have seen that every mind loves its own freedom, 

137 



138 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

hence we all love play; and play may be defined as 
conscious activity that we like. 

Work is conscious activity dominated by the object 
which it seeks to produce. Thus a shoemaker works 
to produce a shoe. He is not free to make the shoe 
according to every impulse ; but the dimensions of every 
piece of leather, the size of the shoe, the shape of the shoe, 
the style of the shoe, the height and length and breadth 
thereof, are predetermined by the shoe which he is to 
make. The work is good just in the degree that the 
object is held sacred. While in play, therefore, we are 
interested in the activity itself, our efforts become work 
just in the degree that our interests become centered in 
what the activity accomplishes. 

Drudgery is conscious activity whose value is not 
evident to the actor. Direct interest is therefore im- 
possible in drudgery, since the use of the effort is not 
evident. The time-worn illustration of the father who 
required his son to carry the pile of bricks back and forth 
across the road is the classic illustration of drudgery. 
When the obedient boy had about finished his task of 
carrying the bricks across the road for the first time, 
his heart began to leap for joy within him, when suddenly 
the father appeared on the scene and ordered the boy 
to carry them back ; but to the boy's request for a reason, 
the stupid father's only reply was, "It is none of your 
business why. Do as I tell you." 



UTILIZATION OF THE PLAY IMPULSE 1 39 

Since interest is impossible in drudgery, no one likes 
it; and we must concede that its educational value is 
not above zero. Drudgery therefore is especially out 
of place in the schoolroom, and one of the crying needs 
of the school to-day is to get rid of drudgery. 

There is another aspect of our problem which we must 
investigate before we can settle upon the educational 
value of the play movement, and that is the aspect of 
reference. Does play refer to the past or to the present 
or to the future ? From the standpoint of its origin, play 
is instinctive ; hence we may agree with the claim, per- 
haps, that play represents the rehearsal of ancestral work. 
From the standpoint of its function, we must concede 
that there is some truth in the claim that play refers to the 
future. Some play does fit for the future. The doll play 
probably does do more or less in the way of fitting the girl 
for future motherhood; but we lose our way if we attempt 
to show that all play fits for the future. There will hardly 
be any more Indian fighting in the world, hence such play 
does not fit the boy for future life any more than any play 
with similar exercise. We may say the same with refer- 
ence to " hide-and-seek," playing with fire, riding the 
broomstick, and so on. If any given work of our ancestry 
is continued quite unchanged in the future, then we can 
accept the " fitting for the future " claim for play. When 
the cat plays with a string or with a ball, she is fitting 
for future life; so too is the puppy that pulls and 



140 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

tears things with his teeth. In a general way, play 
may be said to fit for future work in the degree that in- 
dustry is thoroughly static ; that is, unchanging through 
all the years. In so far as there is progressive change, 
play is largely antiquated, and even antagonistic to prog- 
ress. 

Our problem can never be solved for teaching by refer- 
ring it to the origin of play in the past, nor to its unreli- 
able function in the future. We have already seen that 
play is activity in its freedom ; and there is no question 
but that the child plays because he feels like it right now. 
The child plays with no care for the past nor for the fu- 
ture, but for the present. He simply plays when he feels 
like it. With no thought of what he did yesterday, the 
child may play to-day ; and this too in spite of caution 
that he may pay for it with illness and pain to-morrow. 
In so far as the child's will, the real child, is concerned, 
then, the reference of play is present. 

A different situation confronts us in work. We work 
for ends that lie beyond the mere activity, and in some 
future good toward which the activity leads. Work 
always looks to the future. A man may work for years, 
clinging tenaciously to his purpose to see his children 
grown to a beautiful and enlightened manhood and 
womanhood ; or he may work for treasures in an eternal 
world. Work, then, has future reference. 

Since drudgery is conscious activity whose purpose is 



UTILIZATION OF THE PLAY IMPULSE 141 

not evident to the actor, it is evident that drudgery is 
without reference. 

Having defined each of the three forms of conscious 
activity, and settled upon the reference of each, our next 
step in the solution of our problem is to determine 
their relative values as the child sees them. We know 
that every human being loves play better than work, and 
that we all despise drudgery. Were there no further 
aspect of our problem, the solution would be at hand; 
but we must now work into our problem our laws of refer- 
ence. 

We have seen that the child wills to play for present 
good; yet there is still one question for us to decide; 
namely, in what degree can the child comprehend the 
future? We may call on experience to answer. Sup- 
pose a primary teacher were to call her children together 
and say to them, "Now, children, tell me whether you 
would rather have a holiday to-morrow or two holi- 
days next month." Undoubtedly, teachers are ready to 
concede that the holiday will be to-morrow. 

Experience teaches us that children have little com- 
prehension of the future. The fact is, the future is hard 
for any mind to fathom. With some experience to base 
judgment upon, any normal adult mind can look a little 
way into the future; but inexperienced childhood must 
live in the present. With sufficient experience, man can 
fore-tell the new moon, the tide, the eclipse, the return 



142 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

of the comet ; yet we all feel our comprehension of the 
future curtailed on every hand. The ability actually to 
comprehend the future is a measure of the grasp of scien- 
tific mind. The child is not gifted here. Some men can 
so think their experiences into unity that they can compre- 
hend eternity in satisfying ways ; while even an Ingersoll 
finds his vision so curtailed that he exclaims, "We lack 
evidence !" Indeed, we have already seen that the most 
harrowing of problems is the problem of eternity to the 
individual who can make no comforting headway there- 
with. It has also been pointed out that we can know the 
future only in terms of the past. Since, then, the young 
child's past experience is very limited, his ability to com- 
prehend the future is very small. 

Principle. — A motive for the primary child must 
have present reference. 

We are now ready to give the solution of our problem. 
Since work has future reference, it is largely beyond the 
child's comprehension, and so readily sinks to drudgery 
for childhood. The school for childhood, then, must 
not really be a place of work. Play, with its present 
reference, is the only form of activity that the child can 
readily comprehend. We can therefore understand why 
the child lives, must live, indeed, in the realm of play. 

Principle. — Play is the form of activity most suited to 
the primary school, for the reason that the child mind 
readily comprehends only what has present reference; 



UTILIZATION OF THE PLAY IMPULSE 1 43 

work readily becomes drudgery to childhood, for the 
reason that its reference is future. 

As the child's experience grows, his basis of comprehen- 
sion of the future grows with it, and thus in time the 
child comes to be interested in serious work. Any work 
whose end is not far off may mean something to the pri- 
mary child ; and it is of the highest importance that he 
have some such work from the beginning ; yet the teacher 
should see to it that his little work is agreeable to him, and 
not drudgery. 

Since we have now settled upon the general significance 
of play and accepted it as a serviceable tool in teaching, 
we may go a little deeper into the subject for the purpose 
of discovering its specific values, both positive and nega- 
tive. 

The Intellectual Aspect of Play 

We have defined play as conscious activity in its free- 
dom. The child is born with a host of impulses ready to 
discharge with appropriate stimulations; while others, 
latent at birth, appear with years. These impulses drive 
the child forward to experiences, and these experiences 
are the only means of teaching him. To begin with, the 
impulses discharge blindly ; since the child cannot know 
what they mean ; but having once discharged, an impulse 
is no longer just what it was before, for the consequence 
of its impelling act has been more or less clearly discerned. 
Its agreeable or disagreeable aspect is henceforth apper- 



144 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

ceived with the impulse. So, too, the object calling forth 
the impulse is no longer the same object, for it now means 
whatever the contact with it, the experience, means. 
Thus the impulse to nurse as well as the bottle nursed 
are changed to the child who has once nursed. A hot 
stove and the impulse to reach it are both altered to the 
child by a single act of touching the stove. 

The child at play discharges thousands of impulses; 
and all the time he is perceiving and remembering and re- 
lating and unifying the experiences derived. Coordina- 
tions of muscles are being established, so that voluntary 
control is being acquired. Thus the experiences which 
are being gained may in time be utilized in directing 
conduct. As an instrument of intellectual development, 
then, we may accept play as a worthy tool ; and though 
it will be shown later tnat the imaginative element is 
weak in the games usually employed in the schools, on the 
whole we may say that the intellectual aspect of play is 
rich in promise. 

Emotional, Moral, and Social Aspects of Play 

The emotional and volitional values of play are not 
readily available. Indeed, in mere play, these values are 
hardly evident. If the child is to be absolutely free and 
unhampered in the discharge of his impulses, he will 
hardly emerge from the savage state. He must learn to 
control his impulses and direct them toward ends which 



UTILIZATION OF THE PLAY IMPULSE 145 

are good for every one ; that is, he must become a moral 
being. This means that the play impulse is to be guided 
by reason, and play is to be rationalized. When we 
rationalize play, we have at once a game. A game is 
rationalized play — play subjected to rules that are as fair 
to all players as to any one. It is the game, therefore, 
that can give us the chain of moral values ; while the con- 
tact with others, in game playing, gives opportunities to 
learn and understand human wills. 

In any game we must have a contest. A contest is 
activity against opposition; hence it is the rivalry in- 
stinct that gives spice to any game. It is also this very 
rivalry, competition, that raises the possibilities of moral 
training to the highest power ; for when the glow of com- 
petition is at white heat, it is easy for the child to try to 
cheat. Now, fair play is one of the values of life, and we 
want the child to learn to compete fairly. We want our 
whole little world of players to rise up in opposition and 
stand their ground when a value of life is being trampled 
upon. Here, then, is a magnificent opportunity to de- 
velop moral backbone. Here we may teach the validity 
of law, the respect for law, the love of law that guarantees 
to every one his rights. And oh, what a loss if the teacher 
fails to see that these are the highest values that the game 
or any other school work can reach ! Would that all men 
had been trained in such a moral sphere as the school- 
room game can become. The trouble with that shoddy 



146 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

merchant and that food adulterator and that grafter and 
that ballot-box stuffer and the whole band of malefactors 
is, they do not compete fairly. It is a moral coward that 
cannot meet the world openly and honestly, and our 
schools have a sacred duty here. The school has no more 
vital tool for moral training than the school game. The 
teacher should lay hold of this tool and ply it with all her 
skill, seeing to it that the rules of the game are respected 
and loved and championed by all as the guarantee of 
rights, of every player's rights. 

Principle. — The game is a valuable moral tool in the 
degree that it teaches each child to will the good of all. 

Until an individual has learned to identify himself with 
the well-being of his fellows, until he has learned to love 
and respect the universal side of his being, he is not a 
social nor a moral being, and the emotions and the will of 
such a being will be continually directed inward toward 
his own private pleasures, rather than outward toward 
an ideal world. Morality is the will to serve the good of 
the race ; and the school game is an excellent instrument 
for its development. 

2. The Pedagogical Aspect of Play 
We now come to the actual use of the play impulse to 
the end of realizing the aim of education ; and our pur- 
pose now is to see how the game actually works in the 
schoolroom, as well as to see how it should work. 



UTILIZATION OF THE PLAY IMPULSE 147 

The most uninteresting experience known to the human 
mind is monotony. The routine of life, the unchanging 
grind, the nothing new, is our drudgery. Monotony 
drives men crazy; and even the man whose unceasing 
manifold duties drive him into insanity is actually driven 
mad, not by variety, but by the monotony of variety. 
Change might have relieved him and saved him. 

The life of the shepherd may teach us a lesson here. 
If the reader were to compare the state records of in- 
sanity, he would probably be surprised at the high rate for 
the state of Nevada. Then were he to look into matters 
a little further, he would probably be surprised to find 
the high rate usually credited to sheep herders. If the 
reader could but spend a week with one of these simple 
shepherds, he would find the explanation of this high rate 
of insanity to be monotony. Early in the day the youth- 
ful shepherd starts out with his sheep. Hour after hour 
he tramps on, with nothing to greet his eyes but sheep 
and sage brush and sand and sand burs. On, on till noon ; 
and when he would sit down to eat from his scrip, all that 
he finds to rest upon is sheep and sage brush and sand 
and sand burs. On through the day he lounges or toils, 
and when nightfall is near and he would improvise a fold, 
all under heaven that greets his eyes is sheep and sage 
brush and sand and sand burs. Yes, it is monotony that 
drives the shepherd crazy ; and monotony tends to drive 
us all mad. 



148 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

If now we apply the law of the shepherds to the school- 
room, we shall find a lesson there. '/That formal drill, 
which many teachers value highly in many of the sub- 
jects, readily sinks into a monotonous grind. If teachers 
would investigate memory work, which is purely or even 
chiefly repetition, if they could see how much effort goes 
to waste when the child is set to work to commit an arith- 
metic table or a poem or a psalm or a proverb, which he 
poorly understands, or when he " learns" a formal defini- 
tion, or when he crams for an examination, that formal 
drill would soon become a rare experience in school. 

We are not to believe that we can get along without 
drills ; that is, drills in the sense of frequent repetitions ; 
but let these repetitions come through varied experiences, 
not through a set form of memory grindy If the teacher 
would see how quickly the mind is lost in a formal drill, 
she may first repeat to herself for twenty times the multi- 
plication fact, 4 times 37 are 148. Then if she will ob- 
serve carefully the maneuvers of a third-grade child who 
is worrying over his multiplication tables, remembering 
that the easy flitting away of his attention may be fully 
accounted for by the fact that the child's power of volun- 
tary control is many times more limited that her own, 
she will be in a position to get some conception of the 
relationship of the formal drill and madness. Now if 
the teacher will drill the child on the next higher table by 
using the " guessing game" or the "ring toss game," she 



UTILIZATION OF THE PLAY IMPULSE 1 49 

should discover that the attention is far more steady, 
the interest immeasurably deeper, the efforts far more 
constant and strong, and the results correspondingly 
superior. 

By way of summary, we may formulate the following — 
Principle. — The game is a valuable substitute for the 
formal drill, which easily sinks into a monotonous and 
disinteresting grind. 

While we are dealing with the formal drill, we can 
hardly afford to miss the opportunity to carry our study 
on to the formal definition y and though this subject will 
be more fully treated in a later chapter, this is per- 
haps our best opportunity to lay down a law against the 
use of the formal definition in the lower grades. Perhaps 
there is no teacher in any grade who has not seen the 
futile efforts of children in defining. We have all heard 
the child define arithmetic, addition, multiplication, geog- 
raphy, physiology, history, and so on to the end. If 
the teacher once investigates some of this defining to see 
what conceptions are behind it, she will soon discover that 
the definitions are essentially empty. The formal defini- 
tion commonly raises the ignorance to a higher power. 
If the teacher will only make a candid investigation of the 
defining ability of a child in any grade from one to and in- 
cluding four, trying him with the simplest and most easily 
defined conceptions, she will readily find that the child 
does not think precisely enough and methodically enough 



150 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

to formulate definitions. The effort at formal defining 
is therefore drudgery to him. The child lives in his world 
of experience, and he knows cat, pencil, etc., by the ob- 
ject. He gets new words and their meaning through 
experience, through use; not through scientific state- 
ments. If the teacher would give him the meaning of a 
new term, she should use the term a number of times, so 
that he may discern the meaning. It is in this way that 
he has come to know the meaning of all his terms. 

Principle. — The formal definition has no place in the 
primary school. 

3. Values in Some of the Common School Games 

The Bean Bag Game. — The bean bag (or sand bag) 
game, of common use in our schools, is rooted in the 
instincts, physical activity, mental activity, rivalry, 
and play. As the game is usually played, three or 
more concentric circles are drawn on the floor, and 
their values fixed according to the numbers that the 
teacher would drill upon. A bag thrown within the 
inner circle may count, say, nine; in the next outer 
circle, four ; and in the outer circle, two. Children are 
stationed so that all can see the playing and make the 
count. The first child is called, and he places his toe at 
the throwing line, which should be far enough away from 
the circles to fit the throwing abilities of the players. 
Before the child makes his first toss, he must say 



UTILIZATION OF THE PLAY IMPULSE 151 

" Ready." This is his overt notice to the world of players 
that he is ready to begin, and that he is willing for all to 
see that he stands for fair play. If he fails to give such 
notice, he is quickly called to account by any one ; and 
either some number already agreed upon is deducted from 
his count (hence subtraction is brought in), or else his 
count is ruled out for violation of the playing rules, the 
bill of rights. He throws three or more bags, then pro- 
ceeds to make his count. Every child is making the 
count; otherwise value is lost to the school purpose. 
Suppose this child has one bag in each circle ; then his 
count is 9 plus 4 plus 2, or 15 ; and he writes the number 
15 after his name in the tabulum on the board. If the 
child fails in his count, it is worthless ; and he loses it, 
and writes a cipher after his name. Any one in the world 
may judge ; for this is a world of fair play. The bags 
are collected, and the next child called. He steps to the 
throwing line, says " Ready," and makes his throws. 
Count is made as before ; and so the game goes on till 
called. Then each child must count and write his sum- 
mary, his winnings. Suppose the tabulum shows as fol- 
lows : — 



John 


15+ 0+ 7 = 22. 


Mary 


10+ 20 + 6 = 36. 


James 


12 + 10+ 15 = 37- 


Sarah 


22 + 12 + 13 = 47. 


Willie 


20 + 20 + 10 = 50. 



152 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 



Edith 


12 + 10 + 15 = 37. 


Frank 


8 + 22 + 20 = 50. 


Emma 


15+13 + 27 = 55. 


George 


17 + 22 + 13 = 52. 


Tearl 


20 + 20 + 22 = 62. 



Now comes the comparison of counts to find the winner, 
and a star is placed to mark the winner's name. 

In this game we have a drill on the forty-five combina- 
tions (the addition table) ; and with rapid playing, the 
drill is rapid. The interest is easily held in the adding 
drill (with subtraction for failures), for the child clearly 
sees the use of the counting in this serious business of 
trying to win the game. The instinctive basis can fur- 
nish ample motive, so long as the game is well handled 
and not overworked. The emotional, social, and moral 
values are vitally reached in the degree that the silent but 
master hand of the teacher quietly and surely builds up a 
spirit that loves and wills nothing less than equal rights 
and fair play. 

The Ring Toss Game. — The ring toss game is rooted in 
the same instincts as the bean bag game. As it is usually 
played, a single post, about an inch in diameter, two feet 
high, and secured by a base, is placed on the floor. Five 
or more rings, varying in diameter from five to twelve 
inches, are thrown in attempts to ring the post. The 
throwing line is adjusted as in the bean bag game. The 
rings are assigned values to suit the numbers to be drilled 



UTILIZATION OF THE PLAY IMPULSE 1 53 

on. Thus the smallest ring may count 6 threes; the 
next larger, 5 threes, and so on, if the teacher wishes to 
drill on the multiplication table of threes. Penalties are 
fixed as in the bean bag game ; the class is placed to favor 
making counts, and the tabulum is prepared on the 
blackboard. The first player steps to the line, says 
" Ready," and throws the five rings, one at a time, in his 
efforts to ring the post. He then steps forward, lifts the 
rings from the post, and, holding them so that all may 
see, he makes and records his count. Thus, if he 
has succeeded with the three large rings, his count is 
3 plus 6 (or 2 threes) plus 9 (or 3 threes) are 18. If 
the player forgets to say " Ready," the predetermined 
penalty is applied. If he fails in counting, he loses his 
count. Each child takes his turn, till summaries are 
called for. The winner is marked as before. 

It should be noted that the values in this game are not 
different from the values in the bean bag game ; yet it is 
a different game, and we need a good variety of games. 
Either game may be varied to suit purposes. 

The Guessing Game. — The guessing game is rooted 
in the instincts, secretiveness, curiosity, mental activity, 
rivalry, and play. It is played about as follows. The 
teacher announces that the game will be played, say with 
the multiplication table of nines. One child is then called 
upon to come out in front of the class, conceive a number 
fact from the table of nines, and whisper it to the teacher. 



154 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

The children try in turn to guess the number fact. Thus 
one child says, " I guess you are thinking 4 nines are 36. " 
The leader answers "No." Another guesses "8 nines are 
72." The answer again is "No." Some one in time 
guesses the right number fact, and the leader answers 
"Yes." The teacher knows the conceived fact, hence 
fair play is assured. Any child making a mistake in 
multiplication may be ruled out of the game. The suc- 
cessful guesser becomes leader in the next game, and the 
drill is continued. 

The values in this game are not different from those in 
the two games just treated, unless it be in the fact that 
the drill may be very rapid and searching. It is one of 
the most untiring games to children, and this is chiefly 
due to the fact that the powerful curiosity impulse is at 
work. Any one who has observed how curious one child 
is to know a secret whispered to another may understand 
the strength of the impulse to know what fact the leader 
has whispered to the teacher. This game makes legiti- 
mate use of the curious instinct ; and it affords oppor- 
tunity to give negative lessons on base curiosity, by 
comparison. 

Touch-the-Table Game. — The basal impulses in the 
touch-the-table game are essentially the same as those 
of the guessing game, though they work out somewhat 
differently. As this game is played, one child is sent 
from the room, and another child of the class rises and 



UTILIZATION OF THE PLAY IMPULSE 1 55 

touches the table. The first child is then recalled, and 
he tries to point out the one who touched the table during 
his absence. "Was it you?" he asks of one. "No, it 
was not I," is the reply. If the child replies, "No, it was 
not me/' he is ruled out of the game. "Was it you ? " is 
asked of another. "No, it was not I," may again be the 
reply. Finally comes the right one, and the reply is, 
" Yes, it was I." 

Another child is sent from the room, and two children 
sitting together are called upon to touch the table. 
The child returns, and is told to look for the guilty pair. 
"Was it you ?" he asks. "No, it was not we." " Was 
it you ? " " Yes, it was we." 

Here we see an interesting drill on the troublesome and 
elusive grammatical forms. A child may know that the 
correct form is "It is I;" but, not unlike his older breth- 
ren, he is the victim of everlasting bad forms which his 
social surroundings have bequeathed him. We have 
seen that grammar cannot give us correct speech. It 
may fix the forms, but only language drill can put them 
into speech. In the game, the child is actually establish- 
ing the use of the grammatical forms, under the penalty 
of forfeiture of his playing rights for a single violation. 
Compare this with a formal drill on these forms, where no 
vital motive can be set, for the reason that a child cannot 
understand why he should use "It is I," and we may get a 
glimpse of the teaching art. 



156 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

Here is revealed one of the most valuable uses of games. 
In order to play the game, the child strives to fix in habit 
the forms which are quite meaningless to him now, yet 
which mean a future good. 

Principle. — The game may serve to bear a future end, 
and give it present reference to the child. 

Earlier in the present chapter, we deferred the treat- 
ment of the imaginative element in games, with the 
notice that it would be taken up at a better time. Our 
purpose was to defer the treatment until we had investi- 
gated some of the popular school games. Since we now 
have before us a number of these games, we are in posi- 
tion to proceed with our topic. 

If the teacher will make a brief analysis of the intellec- 
tual values in the bean bag game, she may note that the 
children play the game as they have seen it played. It is 
quite evident that the reproductive imagination is at 
work, but that there is little or no trace of the higher form, 
the constructive imagination. The child does not con- 
struct his own play in this game, as a chess player or a 
checker player does; but one child plays about as all 
others do. The same statement holds true for the ring 
toss game, the guessing game, and the touch-the-table 
game. Indeed, this is a valid criticism against the school 
games in general. We must regret this fact ; for though 
the primary child's constructive imagination is not strong, 
the popular school games do not exercise well the little 



UTILIZATION OF THE PLAY IMPULSE 1 57 

constructive power that he has. When we remember 
that the Brooklyn Bridge, the screw propeller, the dy- 
namo, and the whole list of progressive movements have 
grown out of the constructive imagination, we must long 
to see some of our progressive primarians yet devise a 
supply of school games less weak in the imaginative ele- 
ment. We need such imaginative values as are found in 
such outdoor games as "hide and seek," "blackman," 
basketball, football, and so on. It is fortunate that 
many of our outdoor games are good supplements of the 
schoolroom games, in the appeal to the constructive 
imagination. 

In the matter of devising new school games, primary 
teachers are not found as competent as the importance of 
the work seems to demand. "Where can we get games 
that will win the children ?" and "How many games do 
we need ? " are questions heard from primarians on every 
hand. 

If the teacher will note the games that have captivated 
the race, she may get a clew to our answer to the first ques- 
tion. Throwing the quoit or horseshoe is a diversion 
found the world over ; and it is a game that has held the 
race for centuries. In this game of world-wide interest, 
game makers have discovered a universal motive, and 
they have brought it into the schoolroom. The hard 
and dangerous horseshoe has been replaced by the harm- 
less bean bag, or sand bag, and thus the objectionable 



158 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

element eliminated. Now if the teacher will carry her 
study to the county fair, the state fair, the world's fair, 
the board walk along the beach, she will find there the 
great racial pastimes that are so interesting that people 
actually pay for the privilege of playing them. This indi- 
cates interest deeply rooted in the race, and therefore 
nourished by the very instincts that impel the child in the 
schoolroom. The familiar cane rack has already been 
brought into the schoolroom, and made over into the 
ring toss game ; the fortune wheel has been purified and 
made over into the guessing game ; indeed, a handful of 
these widely attractive pastimes have been utilized in 
teaching, but there yet remains the great host of popular 
attractions awaiting the magic touch of the skilled pri- 
mary hand to mold them into instruments for the teach- 
ing art. 

Principle. — The great national pastimes that have 
endured for ages are replete with motives that may be 
directed toward educational ends. 

No one should complain that many of these pastimes 
are tainted with vice. Remolding may purify any of 
them, and yet give us their impelling values for better 
ends. The instincts at their roots are of the highest 
value, and they may be turned toward the most 
righteous ends. That shameful pool box, so attractive 
to thousands, is rooted in those valuable instincts, 
curiosity, experimentation, ownership, and rivalry. It 



UTILIZATION OF THE PLAY IMPULSE 1 59 

is not the game of chance that we may condemn, for 
life itself is an amazing game of chance; but we must 
condemn the game of chance as it is revealed in the 
hideous, unproductive, immoral pool box. All wicked- 
ness represents the unguided, untutored, unprofitable, 
inhuman side of our impulses. Impulse can see only in 
the light of experience. 

As to the number of games needed in the schoolroom, 
the case is clear. Few sights are more pitiful in school 
than that of a group of children playing a game that they 
have worn into shreds. If game playing itself is not to fall 
victim to the law of monotony, the teacher must com- 
mand a rich and varied supply of games. The lesson of 
the sheep herders is significant here. 

Principle. — Game playing is not immune to the law of 
monotony ; hence the primary teacher should equip her- 
self with a rich and varied supply of games. 

There is yet an aspect of game playing which, needs our 
attention. We have all seen children keyed up to the 
highest pitch of interest, apparently just for the sake of 
interest. It ought to go without saying, that interest is 
something which is altogether too valuable to be wasted, 
and that the mere catering to the interests of childhood is 
weakness. Interest must be utilized in moving the child 
to realize the values of life ; otherwise it is as sounding 
brass and tinkling cymbals. 

Principle. — Interest for the sake of interest is not 



l6o PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

educative ; and the value of interest lies in its efficiency 
as a motive toward realizing the values of life. 

Playing games just for the sake of interest is the coun- 
terpart of playing games from which monotony has stolen 
the interest. Either defeats the educational purpose. 
It is a pity that we have both these weaknesses in our 
schools. Teachers and pupils must have worthy pur- 
poses in play, and the purposes of the two must not be 
identical. The teacher uses play as a means of deriving 
interest for some worthy end, otherwise she has missed 
the purpose of the play in school ; but the child uses play 
as an end in itself, otherwise it is not a motive to him. 

Principle. — Play is an approved tool in teaching so 
long as it remains an attractive end to the child, and a 
worthy means to the teacher. 

Perhaps the treatment of the subject of play should 
not be closed without reference to its value in securing 
unity of minds in a class of children. It is true that when 
all the minds of a class are working together toward a defi- 
nite end, we have realized the unity for which class work 
seeks. Since the school game is such a universal means 
of motivating children, it may move a group of them quite 
as readily as one. It may, through sympathy, imitation, 
etc., even move a group more readily than any one. 
We can therefore understand why teachers find that " sub- 
ject matter taught through play is so effectively taught 
to the class as a whole." We should not fail to discern, 



UTILIZATION OF THE PLAY IMPULSE l6l 

however, that it is not alone the play, but rather the unity 
of minds secured through play, that gives the real key 
to the explanation. Unity of motive is the one cue to a 
sustained class attention. 

Principle. — The only persistent unity in the atten- 
tion of a class is secured through unity of motive. 



CHAPTER V 

THE TEACHER AN INFLUENCE 

We have seen that the only teacher worth the name is 
experience ; and that the course of study is a selection of 
those impersonal experiences of the race which we believe 
will prove most valuable to the life of the child. We 
have also seen how the native impulses of the child are 
to be utilized in moving the child to personalize the se- 
lected impersonal experiences of the race, and that without 
these native impulses there never could be such a thing 
as education. We are now to consider the outer influence 
which lays hold of the impulses of the child, and, with 
more or less efhciency, influences now this impulse to 
reach out toward this bit of experience, and now that im- 
pulse to go out toward that bit of experience. This direc- 
tion of the experiences of the child toward ends that are 
valued by the race is what we call teaching. Since the 
course of study determines more or less definitely what 
impersonal experiences the child is to receive, while his 
native impulses, as remolded by experience, determine 
whether or not he will receive them, it is evident that 
the teacher is to function as a mediating influence. 

162 



THE TEACHER AN INFLUENCE 1 63 

Principle. — The function of the teacher is to influence 
the child to personalize the impersonal experiences which 
constitute the course of study. 

A teacher must be, indeed, a veritable dynamo of in- 
fluence. An individual who is weak in influence cannot 
be a teacher. Let experience show us the truth of this 
last statement. Three teachers apply for the same 
school. That one is the successful candidate who wields 
the greatest influence over the school board. Ask how 
long she will be able to stay in that school, and our 
answer is, she may stay so long as she maintains her 
influence, and she must go when her influence is gone. 
Ask how much good she can do in that community, 
what she can be worth to that community, and our 
answer is, it all depends upon her influence. Ask if 
that teacher can really organize that school, make the 
bad boy over into a good one, silence all opposition, and 
run things about as she wants to, and our answer again 
is, it all depends upon her influence. Briefly told, — 

Principle. — " Teacher " is essentially only another 
name for influence. 

What, now, is this influence ? Can we discover its mean- 
ing, its secrets ? Again experience must be our teacher. 

Here is a boy who has stolen a pencil. He is eleven 
years old, and knows that he should not steal. Now, 
teacher, What will you do with him ? Will you flog 
him? Tha$ was the old panacea. You might bring 



1 64 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

him up before the school and "make an example of him," 
and say, "Now, children, here is a boy who has stolen 
a lead pencil. He is a bad boy; for only bad boys 
steal." But does the teacher know that public re- 
proof is a fearfully dangerous weapon? It may kill 
the last trace of the boy's self-respect, and thus all in- 
fluence will be lost. No, no ; we cannot risk such means. 
If the teacher would be of real service to the boy, she 
must first hear his own mind. He can reveal it. Sup- 
pose it is this : "My father died when I started to school, 
and mother died last summer. Brother and me went 
to live with Uncle Jim ; but times got hard, and uncle 
told us last night that we'd have to look out for ourselves. 
Brother is six years old, and him and me started out last 
night to find a place to stay. We slept in an old shed out 
in the edge of town last night ; and when we got up this 
morning I bought a loaf of bread and a ring of bologna for 
our breakfast, and I had only ten cents left. I bought 
sixteen papers with the ten cents ; but it was so late when 
we got out that the other boys beat us sellin' papers, and 
we couldn't sell but ten papers. We had the other six 
left on our hands. I give brother five cents to get his 
dinner with, and I had five, and we started for school. 
When we got here I remembered you told me to get a 
pencil for to-day ; and 1 didn't have no money to get 
one with, and I found one on my desk, and I took it." 
We now have our real problem before us. It is not 



THE TEACHER AN INFLUENCE 1 65 

an improvised case. How should the case be handled? 
In the first place, it should be noted that there are three 
things in the wrong ; namely, the pencil is in the wrong 
hands, the owner has been unjustly deprived of his 
pencil, and the boy has been guilty of wrong doing. 
The first two wrongs are not hard to right. We will 
return the pencil to its rightful owner, and take care 
not to advertise either the theft or the boy who com- 
mitted the same. Now, with two wrongs righted, we 
are ready to try our skill upon the third. 

Our problem of righting the wrong-doing boy is a 
serious and delicate problem. The future of a human 
life is here at stake. One thing is clear ; namely, what- 
ever else we do, we must make the boy feel that we still 
believe in him. While we cannot countenance the 
wrong act, the taking of property that does not belong 
to him, it was in a weak moment that the boy took the 
pencil. We must lead him to feel, therefore, that we 
still believe that in his stronger moments he is fully 
competent to show that he is a stronger and nobler boy 
than his act has revealed. The teacher must never lose 
the child's confidence that his teacher believes in him 
and trusts him ; for the moment this confidence is gone, 
the teacher's influence is gone with it, and that teacher 
is no longer teacher in reality. 

Principle. — It is the teacher that the child feels 
believes in him, who is in a position to influence him. 



1 66 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

The fact that the boy who took the pencil is in need 
of a home must not be allowed to interfere here; but 
it offers another vital means of befriending the boy. 
Nothing less than the return of the boy to his own ideal 
self can be accepted. The loss of the boy's ideal self is 
the serious loss with which we are to deal, and not the 
loss of the pencil. Money cannot measure the former, 
while five cents will replace the latter. When the boy 
is led to feel that his teacher sees his side of the case, 
feels his side, indeed, and still believes in him, he is 
ready to accept such a friend as safe to follow; and at 
once that boy is in the teacher's hands, and the teacher 
may return him to his ideal. 

Influence is control over the will of another. Such 
control may come through either or both of two sources ; 
namely, knowledge and feeling. The teacher may 
actually increase her influence in her school and com- 
munity by revealing how much she knows. The worst 
trouble here is, people already assume that the teacher 
knows essentially everything, and it is hardly safe for 
most of us to try to improve our influence along this 
line. To be sure, the teacher might show the farmer 
how to improve his business, the blacksmith how to 
make a better weld, the carpenter how to saw a better 
joint, the preacher how to fill empty pews, the matron 
how to care for the baby, the cook how to bake better 
bread, and so on; but it is probably safer for most of 



THE TEACHER AN INFLUENCE 1 67 

us to rest on assumed laurels. We are therefore driven 
to the belief that the hope of increasing our influence 
must, for most of us, lie in the realm of feeling. Indeed, 
it happens that the chief determinant of volition is 
actually feeling and emotion. It is not to our purpose 
to be psychologically specific here ; but experience every- 
where reveals this fact. We all respect and perhaps 
admire the individual who knows much; but we love 
and swear by the one who wins our feelings. We may 
like to meet the person who knows more than we do, 
but we choose to go with and be with and marry the 
one who is sympathetic and warm-hearted and loving 
and winsome. However intellectual a man may be, 
unless he has along with this quality a keen sensitive- 
ness to the conditions about him, a rich and ready sym- 
pathy with the interests and the ends of others, he is 
not a leader of men. The most ready approach to our 
own wills is therefore through feeling; and we must 
believe that it is not different with others. 

Principle. — The most feasible approach to the will 
of another is through feeling. 

It is evident that the highest of all influence is to be 
derived through a happy union of the two sources, 
knowledge and feeling. Such an individual must be 
intellectual and bright and promising, and at the same 
time warm-hearted and kind and inviting. Such a union 
is the teacher ; for " teacher " is but another name for 
influence. 



1 68 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

The intellectual aspect of our problem of influence 
can reveal some valuable laws. Thus, if the teacher's 
requirements appear unreasonable to the child or to his 
parents, the teacher's influence is weakened by disbelief 
in her judgment. If her requirements appear to be 
beyond the school rights, so that children or parents 
feel disposed to challenge her attitude, a feeling of oppo- 
sition springs up; and again the teacher's influence is 
shaken. It is therefore evident that the teacher must 
lay down only reasonable and enforceable requirements, 
if she is to maintain an unshaken influence. 

Principle. — School requirements must be reasonable 
and enforceable, if the school influence is to be un- 
shaken. 

It often happens that a teacher reproves a child so 
often that he feels his freedom curtailed in her presence. 
Any child loves his own freedom, and when the teacher 
reproves, the child must feel that it is for his own good ; 
that is, for his own freedom. This is a happy relation- 
ship which the teacher must seek to establish. It even 
pays not to see some things, rather than lose influence 
by overcriticism ; yet the teacher who makes her 
criticisms in sincere and effective ways need hardly 
refuse to see all. Authority should not be oppressive; 
if so, the instinct of independence, and perhaps of 
parental vanity, may be aroused, and the spirit of re- 
bellion engendered. 



THE TEACHER AN INFLUENCE 1 69 

Principle. — Authority should be so administered that 
the child does not feel the lack of real freedom. 

If, on the other hand, the teacher's treatment of the 
child leads him to feel that the teacher expects only 
good conduct from him, his feelings of independence 
and pride become allies of the teacher. A child in such 
a happy situation readily strains himself to maintain 
the confidence and respect of his teacher. This is the 
treatment that should be offered to all children; for 
we have seen that the child must never be allowed to 
believe that the teacher does not believe in him. 

Principle. — Children should be treated as if only 
honorable conduct is expected. 

The impulses of pride and independence are very 
much in evidence in American schools, and they are 
reliable motives when the teacher has learned how to 
use them. We often hear the statement that "a good 
teacher knows how to render herself useless. " What 
this statement says is untrue; but what it means to 
convey is true. A teacher can easily be too much in 
evidence in a school; and the teacher who has learned 
to guide her school and yet keep herself apparently in 
the background, has learned how to ally herself with 
the child's impulses of independence and pride. Thorn- 
dike has therefore given us a "true bill," — 

Principle. — "The practice of leading pupils at such 
a distance that they seem of themselves to be following 



170 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

their own initiative is one of the highest of the teacher's 
arts." 

Apropos of the subject of teaching influence, there is 
one type of child that often gives teachers endless 
trouble, and teachers seem unable to understand him. 
It is the ''institutionalized child." It should be noted 
that not all such children come from institutions, 
such as the orphans' home and the home of the friend- 
less, as the name really indicates. Experience may be 
such as to develop this type of child in homes apparently 
good, but in reality very poor. An "institutionalized 
child" is one who has never met enough of a genuine 
mother's influence. One of the most understandable 
impulses of a mother is seen in her readiness to see the 
side of her child in any controversy, and to defend him 
against attack. A father or a brother or a sister mani- 
fests this same spirit, but hardly in the degree that a 
genuine mother does. We must believe that this im- 
pulse is not unworthy. It is a poor understanding of 
human instincts which claims that hired servants can 
fulfill the place of a mother. " Institutionalized children " 
never believe "with their whole heart and soul" that 
some one is always ready to see their side of things. 
Such has been their experience that it is hard for them 
to believe that they will be safely represented in any 
controversy. Their experience has missed the mother. 
When they meet trouble in school, therefore, the teacher 



THE TEACHER AN INFLUENCE 171 

should not be astonished to find them quite ready to 
deny any and all charges against them, and to oppose 
and even lie to the last trench. 

Principle. — The " institutionalized child" is hard to 
influence, for the reason that it is hard for him to believe 
that any one believes in him. 

The influence of a mother is what the teacher will 
find the " institutionalized child" lacks. Some one to 
love him, some one to hope for him, some one to live 
for him, some one to believe in him, has not been his. 
He cannot, therefore, give it to others. The man who 
condemns the mother who clings to her wicked, blood- 
thirsty child, even to the very scaffold, fails in his under- 
standing. The moment an individual fully believes that 
every one has forsaken him, that moment he becomes 
in his own mind an outcast in the world ; and, believing, 
as he must, that the world is hostile to him, his springs 
of charity are stopped, and the instincts of sympathy 
and sociability give place to the older and more primi- 
tive instincts of envy and pugnacity. Whatever there 
is of evil in his heart is therefore loosed, and his con- 
duct may smack of ancestral days of treachery and 
blood. 

No, we must not believe that the child is unchanged 
for having had no mother, no father, no home. The 
teacher will find a difference in the concrete. The 
teacher must believe that the home influence is directly 



172 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

related to her own; and the teacher who does not 
strive to make an ally of that influence must lose a 
part of her own. So, too, the home must feel that the 
school influence is a necessary supplement to its own; 
and the home that does not strive to send the child 
forth with a deep feeling of harmony between the home 
and the school must fail to get its largest measure of 
value out of the school. The home has no gift to the 
school that is quite so valuable as the feeling of harmony 
between home and school, which it builds up in the 
minds of its children. 

Principle. — The best school gift of the home to the 
school is the feeling of unity between the home and the 
school which the home builds up in the minds of its 
children. 

One of the most pitiful sources of loss of school in- 
fluence is seen in what we may candidly name home 
jealousy of school authority. It is a condition altogether 
too common to find parents who may mean to do well, 
thoughtlessly and recklessly, and some perhaps enviously, 
undermining in their children the feeling of respect so 
essential to the authority of the school. What a pity, 
indeed, that a patron will vote a tax upon himself to 
maintain the school, deny himself privileges in order to 
send his children to school, argue for the support of the 
school, and yet faithlessly and jealously kill the most 
vital power which the teacher and the school can exer- 



THE TEACHER AN INFLUENCE 1 73 

cise over his children, namely, influence. The school 
must have authority, strong authority; and fortunate 
is the child who is in contact with such an influence. 
The best of us are weak at times, and we may often 
sink below our level of moral strength. When we do 
fall below our norm, a deep-seated respect for authority is 
altogether wholesome. We all know how readily a child 
loses respect for a teacher who "has no government," 
and some of us know the pitiful consequences. No child 
respects a teacher whom he feels he may not obey ; and 
a teacher should ever feel that a ready, willing, and com- 
plete obedience is a mark of high respect. 

Principle. — Children respect teachers whom they feel 
they must obey. 

A teacher who cannot command the respect of her 
students cannot be influence, cannot be teacher. Any 
teacher who willfully destroys her own influence, or that 
of the school, should be dismissed and perhaps fined to 
imburse the school treasury; and any patron who is 
guilty of willfully and maliciously attacking and destroy- 
ing school influence should be fined or imprisoned. 
Educational influence is a power altogether too valuable 
to be trifled with; and the German schools can teach 
us a lesson here. Mistakes in the management of schools 
we shall find; but primitive methods of dealing with 
these broken limbs of influence should no longer be per- 
mitted in a civilized state. 



174 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

There is another source of school influence which is 
commonly overlooked by both teachers and patrons, 
and that is the respect for work. In this day of soft 
hands and indigestion, of elaborate dress and evening 
dinner, of social class and discredit of work, we are 
actually losing respect for work. Along with this loss, 
our basis of morality is shaken ; for the moral life, when 
stripped to its simplest form, means a life of service. 
Independent of social position or of inherited wealth, 
we must teach the young to look forward to lives of 
work; to be unwilling to take something for nothing. 
Train them to look upon it as a sin to stalk through life 
without adding something of value to the world ; to be 
unwilling to leave the world poorer for their having been. 
The individual who consumes fifty foot-pounds of the 
world's available energy, and gives back but forty is a 
negative quantity, ten below zero in the final estimate. 

Principle. — Children should be taught to respect 
work, and to be willing to give themselves to lives of 
work. 

When asked how we may lead the young to appre- 
ciate lives of work, our answer is the one answer which 
must be given wherever appreciation or interest is in 
question, namely, reveal the use. We are most for- 
tunate in this day in that we have learned to command 
the young child's efforts through play, until the time 
comes when he has gained sufficient experience to appre- 



THE TEACHER AN INFLUENCE 1 75 

date serious work. We have already pointed out the 
fact that the primary child is able to appreciate many 
forms of work whose ends are near at hand, and that 
it is highly important that the child have some such 
agreeable work from the beginning. The teacher's solici- 
tude should be that she does not stifle him with work 
which he cannot appreciate. We have all seen Shake- 
speare's " whining schoolboy," and our lives are replete 
with illustrations. The kindest thing, perhaps, that we 
may say of such teaching is, it does not lead to respect 
for work. We want intelligent work in our schools, 
and we would develop agents of production, and not 
slaves. Our chapter on motivation is our offering of 
means. The work bench and the laboratory, the excur- 
sion and constructive work, are all the most hopeful in- 
dications. Domestic science is a magnificent newcomer ; 
if for no other reason, then for the one reason that the 
use of it, the need of it, is readily evident to rich and to 
poor alike. It should bring back respect for the kitchen, 
restore dignity to housework, and bring disgrace to the 
shallow-minded nothingness that is now so ready to 
claim respect and attention. 

In building up the best influence in any field of edu- 
cation, the school and the home should freely conjoin. 
The school needs the best influence of the home, for the 
reason that the home needs the best influence of the 
school. When we realize that the school has the child 



176 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

less than one eighth of the total time during the year, 
we must feel that if the influence of the school is to be 
permanent, it must extend beyond the school and into 
the home. Parents as a rule are ready to welcome the 
school influence into the home, and teachers must en- 
deavor to extend the very school processes there. This 
cannot be well done till the teacher knows the home of 
the child. If the primary teacher is endeavoring to 
teach her class to count, her efforts will never be fully 
rewarded until the child learns to use his counting in his 
little life problems; and the best of motives are often 
found in the home. Thus a six-year-old girl feels that 
she must set the table for her mother. The mother con- 
trives with the teacher, then says to her daughter, "My 
little girl may set the table for mamma when she can 
count out the right number of knives and forks." With 
the motive to set the table impelling the child, she begs 
to learn to count, indeed, learns to count, and then she 
is self-drilled in counting the number of persons that 
are to sit at the table, the number of knives and forks, 
and so on. Here is the harmony of school and home 
influence, and the school can never realize its full value 
with anything less. 

Principle. — The teacher should know the home of 
the child, in order to extend the school influence into it. 

The closer the relationship of home and school, the 
more easy it is to bring about school reforms. It is 



THE TEACHER AN INFLUENCE 1 77 

the patron who has learned to work with the school, 
and who has felt the pulsebeat of the school, who is 
able to understand the needs of the school and work 
with the teacher to bring about genuine reforms. Tra- 
dition is often firmly in the way of change, and the 
teacher must often widen out her acquaintance and in- 
fluence before changes may be safely attempted. A 
school reform, like any other reform, will never succeed 
until the people are ready for it ; and a premature meas- 
ure must die of malnutrition. Changes must come if 
progress is to continue, and enduring changes require 
concerted action. 

Teachers can no longer hope to escape the leadership 
of education in their communities. The teacher must 
stand humbly above her community educationally, and 
pull for better things. Now whatever else the teacher 
does, she must not lose her hold on her constituency; 
if so, she ceases to be teacher, and she will quickly be 
elected secretary of the exterior. Sometimes she must 
give, and sometimes she may take ; but all the time she 
must know the pulse of the people. Such is our social 
structure that the mass is ever moved and controlled by 
the few, by a mere handful of individuals who think 
for the mass that follows. Some of these thinkers are 
active supporters of the school, otherwise there would 
be no school ; and it is this little group of thinking sup- 
porters of the school that the teacher must convince, if 

N 



178 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

she would augment her influence to the point of effect- 
ing a school reform. These leaders may or may not be 
members of the school board ; but the teacher who can 
control this group is master of school affairs. We must 
believe that this is legitimate politics. With the think- 
ing friends of the school won over to any measure, the 
next move is to work for the necessary majority. 

Principle. — To gain influence sufficient to effect a 
school reform, the first move should be made to con- 
vince the thinking friends of the school, then comes the 
move to gain a majority. 

Punishment 

The function of education is both positive and nega- 
tive ; for the teacher must not only give her attention to 
building up good habits of reaction in her children, but 
she must also tear down bad habits which the children 
may have already formed. When an individual is under- 
going any training, that training is giving him control of 
himself, if it is genuine ; that is, the individual is gaining 
freedom to do whatever he wills to do with himself, and 
at the same time the training reveals to him what he 
ought to do. Any training which reveals to the individ- 
ual what he ought to do, and at the same time gives him 
control of himself, so that he is free and able to do what- 
ever he knows he ought to do, is discipline. Discipline, 
therefore, is subjective freedom ; that is, it frees the will 



THE TEACHER AN INFLUENCE 1 79 

by putting the whole being at its command. Until an 
individual is able to do whatever he knows he ought to do, 
he is not free in the world. 

Principle. — Discipline is subjective freedom. 

Any training that we may call discipline must therefore 
leave the individual in better possession of himself. The 
man who is a victim of bad habits is not free ; he is en- 
slaved by his habits. Genuine discipline would liberate 
him by giving him command of himself. So, too, the in- 
dividual who actually does not know how to go about it to 
break his bad habits is not free ; and any training that 
could reveal to him what he ought to do to break his 
habits would be discipline to him. It is thus evident that 
any punishment which does not leave the child with a 
knowledge of what he ought to do, and with a strength- 
ened will to do it, is not discipline ; and it is not efficient 
punishment. 

Principle. — Punishment is efficient in the degree that 
it is discipline. 

We may repeat that the individual who does not know 
what he ought to do is not free ; and the one who knows 
what he ought to do, but cannot bring himself to do it, is 
a slave. Such is the world of will, that all wills which seek 
only their own selfish ends, with no thought of the rights 
of others, cannot be free ; for the reason that they must 
come into conflict. Such wills need discipline. We have 
already pointed out the fact that the will whose acts are 



l8o PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

good for everybody is the moral will. It is therefore 
evident that : — 

Principle. — The ultimate aim of discipline is the de- 
velopment of moral will. 

We must here insist that we are not to mistake physical 
pain for those subjective changes which constitute dis- 
cipline. The thump on the head, the tug at the ear, and 
the stripe on the back, may or may not lead to discipline ; 
but they are not in themselves discipline. If any so- 
called punishment does not lead the child to discern that 
his deed has destroyed in a measure his own freedom, it 
fails of discipline ; for the reason that the child is no bet- 
ter fitted to judge conduct than before. The fact that 
freedom of the self is the most interesting of all things to 
mind, indicates the only essential pain of punishment; 
namely, the pangs of lost freedom. If this inner pain is 
not felt, no outer pain has availed aught in the way of 
discipline. 

Principle. — The pain of lost freedom of the self is the 
only punishment worth the name. 

The individual who is really and completely punished 
for lying, we may say, feels that his act reveals to him 
his own weakness, and that henceforth he must watch 
himself and give himself less freedom than before. The 
self no longer trusts itself as before, and so curtails its 
privileges. The fact that the lie may be discovered by 
others may give the individual further reason to be 



THE TEACHER AN INFLUENCE l8l 

ashamed of himself and to hide himself as one who has 
lost his freedom. His better self may even drive him to 
feel for others, in that the lie of which he is guilty is mis- 
leading to them and fills the world with disharmony. A 
lie, in short, is a fearful master that puts the liar in 
chains, checks his freedom, and enslaves him. If not, 
there is no punishment, no hope. 

For the young child whose limited experience cannot 
enable him to see far into the future, we must substitute 
more real for these ideal pains. If he wrongs his dog, we 
take away his privileges with the dog. If he promises 
aught and fails to fulfill we refuse to accept further prom- 
ises ; and so his freedom is curtailed. If he takes away 
his playfellow's trinkets, we refuse to allow him to have 
the playfellow or his trinkets. All these punishments 
reveal immediate consequences; and deferred conse- 
quences fail to deter the child. If the consequences do 
not appear to be taken seriously ; that is, if the loss of 
freedom does not bring adequate pain ; or if we are at loss 
to find more substantial consequences, then we may resort 
to physical pain. 

However present-day disciplinarians may vote on the 
subject of corporal punishment, the vote cannot change 
the validity of the consequence. Since no child directly 
wills physical pain, but accepts it only against his imme- 
diate will, it is a smarting loss of freedom. The child 
must will the justice of any punishment before it becomes 



l82 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

discipline to him; and this is the thing that is hard to 
reach with small children. It is nevertheless true that 
the thump that the child does not understand in some 
degree is an unkind and useless punishment. 

The fearful maze of arguments which recent years have 
brought out of the subject of corporal punishment has 
not availed much. Corporal punishment is effective 
punishment for young children just in the degree that it is 
really felt as a loss of freedom. Without wading through 
the long chain of arguments against corporal punish- 
ment, we may note that the most potent claim against 
such punishment is that it is artificial. Any punishment 
which does not grow naturally out of the wrong deed, 
but may be arbitrarily imposed, is artificial. The pain 
of a burned finger is a natural punishment, since it grows 
naturally out of the act of touching the flame. So, too, 
the pangs of conscience follow naturally enough in the 
wake of lying, stealing, etc., in an emancipated mind; 
but just what relationship there exists between the act 
of telling a lie and a switching of the back is not at once 
evident. If the two are linked together, therefore, the 
association is not natural and inevitable, but arbitrary 
and artificial. The very fact that a given form of pun- 
ishment is artificial, means that it must be uncertain in 
two ways. In the first place, since the connection be- 
tween the deed and the punishment is not inevitable, 
not natural, the child may fail to make the connection 



THE TEACHER AN INFLUENCE 1 83 

at all. Thus a child may not connect his act of steal- 
ing with the physical pain of punishment, but with an 
irate teacher, or even with his own lack of shrewdness 
in hiding his theft. In the second place, since the asso- 
ciation of the pain and the deed is arbitrary and artifi- 
cial, the teacher's moods may cause the association to 
be fickle or weak or excessive, or even to be omitted al- 
together. 

Principle. — Corporal punishment is valid for young 
children; its greatest weakness is seen in the fact that it 
is artificial and therefore uncertain. 

If any one should feel that we are now arguing for cor- 
poral punishment in the schools, we beg that such judg- 
ment be set aside. Corporal punishment is hardly in 
need of arguments for its use; it is too freely used already. 
Our purpose here is rather to fix its validity in so far as it 
has validity. We must not forget that all punishment is 
unfortunate, for the very reason that it is negative ; but 
such is the structure of the little, living, impulsive, habit- 
forming machine with which the teacher deals that bad 
acts and bad habits are constantly revealed; and it is 
quite as much the sacred duty of the teacher to uproot 
bad habits as it is to establish good ones. The teacher 
must accept this duty and execute it firmly, candidly, and 
relentlessly. Punishment is deterrent in the degree that 
it is adequate and certain. 

The real fact is, punishment is likely to be the most un- 



184 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

welcome task that confronts the teacher, and just for that 
reason we find no work from which more teachers shrink. 
Punishment at best is a trying duty, and perhaps there 
is no teacher who has not found herself at her wit's end to 
know what should be done in this field. We should not 
take away from the teacher any just means of meeting 
the disciplinary problem, and corporal punishment should 
and will remain. It will continue to give trouble, chiefly 
through bad judgment. Infliction will often mean afflic- 
tion; but given children as they are, and teachers and 
parents as they are, this punishment may be at times the 
only one of promise ; and we must still honor the teacher 
and the community that accept it rather than dissolu- 
tion. A mutual understanding between school and home 
is ever a saving clause of influence ; and it is encouraging 
to note that many progressive schools are conserving in- 
fluence by the thoughtful regulation of corporal punish- 
ment. 

As the years and experience of the child increase, his 
ability to respond to the inner and deeper forms of pun- 
ishment is increased, and physical pain should in time 
give place to the ideal pains already mentioned. When 
the attempt to use these higher forms of punishment fails 
with adolescents, the teacher should at once believe that 
she has not reached the deepest will of the adolescent. 
We have already seen that all will-influence must come 
through either knowledge or feeling, or both; and the 



THE TEACHER AN INFLUENCE 1 85 

influence gained by punishment does not escape the law. 
The child must know moral conduct, and he must know 
wherein his wrong act has fallen short of morality. Pri- 
vate reproof is the teacher's mightiest weapon here. 
Such reproof gives the higher feelings a chance to come 
in; and we have already seen that feeling is the chief 
determinant of volition. A candid, sincere, sympathetic 
attitude is indispensable in reaching the child's ideal; 
and the penetrating, encouraging, self-revealing possi- 
bilities of private reproof commend this form of punish- 
ment as the most efficient weapon of punishment that the 
teacher can command. 

Principle. — Private reproof is the teacher's strongest 
weapon of reforming influence. 

Whatever else the teacher may do in the way of punish- 
ment, she must not degrade school values by using 
them directly as means of punishment. The practice 
of punishing children by keeping them in school at 
recess or after school hours is shortsightedness; but it 
reveals how teachers are pressed for means of punish- 
ing delinquents. We want the child to value the priv- 
ilege of being in school, and the teacher should not in- 
tentionally offer even a hint that may pervert the child's 
mind in this sphere. Assigning a lesson to punish a child 
is the very essence of poison to school influence. The 
teacher who tells a child that he ought to love his study, 
and then wheels about and uses that study as a means of 



1 86 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

punishment, might consistently be fined for destroying 
school influence. 

Principle. — In punishment, the teacher should avoid 
disagreeable associations, in the child mind, with school 
values. 

We must finally recognize the fact that now and then 
the whole available stock of school influence will prove 
inadequate to move and reform some will. We have 
moral degenerates in the world, and they appear now and 
then in the school. The contaminating influence of such 
individuals should not be allowed in the schoolroom. 
No teacher and no school is all-powerful ; and when it 
becomes evident that all the influence that can be mar- 
shaled is inadequate to reform the will of a bad child, 
that child should go. We are told that such action only 
turns the child out where he goes rapidly from bad to 
worse; but our reply is, his presence in school is alto- 
gether too expensive; and even if, after expulsion, he 
goes all the way to destruction, our total good must be 
conserved. We know that the good shepherd left the 
ninety and nine, and went out to recover the lost sheep ; 
but it should be remembered that no good shepherd would 
ever go out after the hundredth sheep until the ninety and 
nine were safely inclosed. 



CHAPTER VI 
METHODS 

Method refers to the way a thing is done. In teach- 
ing, it refers to the way an impersonal experience is per- 
sonalized. Subject matter refers to the impersonal ex- 
periences to be personalized. These two conceptions, 
method and matter, can never be fully separated in teach- 
ing ; and, as has already been pointed out, the relation- 
ship between the two is far more intimate and inevitable 
than many so-called " schools of method" would have us 
believe. Imagine how narrow and empty the task of 
teaching one to eat, independently of what is to be eaten ; 
of teaching one how to sing, without reference to what is 
to be sung ; of teaching one how to treat disease, without 
reference to what disease ; or of teaching one how to do 
something, anything, indeed, independently of what is to 
be done. The teacher is therefore cautioned against 
overexpectation from any isolated treatment of method ; 
for there is but little in the way of forms of procedure that 
is applicable to a wide range of subject matter. Thus a 
chapter on methods must of necessity present a very 
limited aspect of teaching. 

187 



1 88 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

i. Methods oe Dealing with Apperception 

A young child was shown a cup. It looked at the cup 
a moment, then reached out its hand toward it, and began 
to cry. Investigation revealed the fact that the child 
had often been fed from the cup, and thus the sight of the 
cup called up past experience which the child would now 
repeat. To the child the cup meant something to eat. 
The meaning was the past experience which the mind 
read into the present experience. 

The mother saw that same cup, looked at it a moment, 
then waved it away, as tears started in her eyes. In- 
vestigation revealed the fact that the mother had often 
seen the husband drink the fatal intoxicant from that cup ; 
and that now it called up the death of her husband, and 
the drunken row in which he was killed, and her own 
blighted hopes. All this was the meaning of the cup to 
the mother. 

Principle. — Meaning is past experience which a mind 
reads into a present experience. 

The process of reading past experience into a present 
experience, or of unifying the old and the new, is called 
apperception. Without this process, it is evident that 
nothing could have meaning to us. It is also evident 
that meaning is an uncertain quantity, and that the idea 
we get from an object depends upon what we read into it. 
Since childhood experience is very limited, it follows that 



METHODS 189 

we should expect things to mean far less to the child than 
to ourselves. The teacher must be continually on guard 
lest misunderstandings arise. 

Since each new object of thought must be apprehended 
in terms of past experience, it is again evident that ex- 
perience is the beginning point of any and of all instruc- 
tion. We have defined experience as contact of the in- 
dividual with the world about him, and we are now to 
study a method of teaching based on the direct study of 
objects. 

The Objective Method 

How does the child get his primary ideas of the world of 
objects? Experience must teach us the answer. It is 
evident that the first time a child sees an orange, it can 
have little or no meaning to him. If he has had some 
related experience, such as seeing round objects or yellow 
objects, the orange may have a trifling meaning to him ; 
but it cannot mean "orange." Now let us watch the 
native impulses at work to bring experience. 

The moment the child sees the round yellow object, he 
has an impulse to get hold of it. One sense, seeing, has 
already worked upon the object, and now a second sense 
is after it. The moment he seizes it, he has an impulse 
to exercise a third sense upon it, and he puts it to his 
mouth. Smell, as well as taste, now has its chance upon 
the object. The next moment, perhaps the familiar 
childish act of thumping objects is seen, and thus a fifth 



190 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

sense, hearing, gets a chance to come into play. All these 
impulses mean something to the child in the way of experi- 
ence, and hence of education. The senses are the only 
original capital of the child, and he is born with impulses 
to use them. Anything, therefore, upon which he can ex- 
ercise his senses is useful, hence interesting to him in the 
way of satisfying impulse. It is thus evident that: — 

Principle. — The native interests of children lie in the 
sphere of the senses. 

When the child has come into contact with the object, 
through some one or more of his senses, certain effects 
linger; and the contact, with its effects, we call an ex- 
perience. The next time the child sees an orange, it 
means something to him; and the more experiences he 
has with it, the more the meaning. The fact to be noted 
here is that primary ideas must come from personal con- 
tact with objects; that is, contact through the senses. 
The attempt to give the child primary ideas of things with- 
out presenting the things themselves is therefore unwise. 

Principle. — Primary ideas should be taught objec- 
tively. 

The fact that a child comes to school with a rich life 
experience of six years means that the really primary 
ideas to be gained in school are relatively few ; yet the 
law of primary ideas is constantly felt in the school- 
room. Thus a child who has never seen an island is 
unable to comprehend the term "island." Even though 



METHODS 191 

he has seen both water and land, and is told that "an 
island is a body of land surrounded by water," we all 
know that his conception will never be clear until he has 
actually come in contact with an island of some size. 
The school has to give many such primary, or semi- 
primary, ideas; and every subject of study furnishes 
its quota. Such conceptions as mountain, river, slope, 
gulf, confluence, sea, plain, and so on, are to be made 
safe in geography teaching, by making sure that the 
child has come in contact with the real objects, even 
though small. So, too, such ideas as two, three, ten, addi- 
tion, multiplication, fraction, and so on, are to be secured 
by objective presentation. The method which uses ob- 
jects to present ideas is called the objective method. 

The Illustrative Method 

We should not confound the objective method with 
the illustrative method. A teacher may tell a child that 
two and three are five, and use objects to illustrate ; or 
she may explain the action of the human heart by using 
a diagram of the heart to assist. These methods are 
illustrative only ; but if the teacher were to provide the 
child with splints and tell him to count out two in one 
group and three in another group, and then allow him to 
discover from the objects that two and three are five, the 
method would be objective. So, too, a boy in physics 
might be told that the law of the lever is, "Power times 



192 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

power-arm equals weight times weight-arm," and then a 
lever provided to illustrate. The method would be illus- 
trative, for the reason that the object would be used only 
to illustrate the fact already told. If, however, levers 
are supplied and directions given so that the boy dis- 
covers the law from the levers for himself, the method 
is objective, for the reason that the objects disclose the 
law. The illustrative method, then, is the method 
which uses objects to illustrate facts. 

The Laboratory Method 

When an individual seeks to find a truth by the ob- 
jective method, he may experiment with the objects, 
changing them by composing or decomposing them, or 
by manipulating them into apparatus, in the effort to 
make the objects give out a truth. Such a method is 
known as the laboratory method, or the method of experi- 
ment. It is usually looked upon as a progressive, indus- 
trious procedure to make the objective method reveal a 
wanted truth. The laboratory method is objective. 
It is to be noted that this method seeks to create experi- 
ence; thus it has been called the method of discovery. 
It is a method which is rapidly growing into use in many 
ways, and it is destined to command an important and 
permanent place in teaching; for the reason that it 
recognizes experience as teacher. 



METHODS I 93 

Illustration of the Laboratory Method in Arithmetic. — 
Suppose a teacher has taught her class in arithmetic how 
to find the area of a parallelogram, and that she now 
assumes to teach the class to find the area of a triangle. 
She may take for her objects parallelograms similar to 
those used in finding the areas of parallelograms. The 
students may construct their own parallelograms out of 
cardboard, if convenient. Each child has a number of 
unlike parallelograms, and the teacher now directs each 
child to take one and fold it carefully along the line of 
one of its diagonals. Next, it is broken or cut in two, and 
the two triangles are compared by superposition. They 
are found to be equal. A child is now asked to state the 
law for finding the area of parallelograms (already known), 
and we may suppose his statement is, "The area of a 
parallelogram is equivalent to the base multiplied by the 
altitude." He is next asked to state how the area of his 
triangle may be found from the area of the parallelogram 
when known. His reply is, "The area of the triangle is 
equivalent to half the area of the parallelogram.' ' A 
second parallelogram is now folded and treated as the 
first. A third and perhaps others are treated in the 
same way ; the number depending upon the need. When 
the students have discovered the unity of the processes 
of dealing with the individual triangles, they have dis- 
covered the law for finding the area of triangles; and 
they state it perhaps in the form, "The area of a triangle 



194 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

is equivalent to one half the product of base and alti- 
tude " (true in numerical terms only). 

In any objective teaching, we are altogether too likely 
to take it for granted that the object used must be one 
that appeals to the eye. Psychological inspection, how- 
ever, reveals the fact that in any schoolroom there are 
some minds that most readily respond to objects that 
appeal to the eye, others that most readily respond 
through the ear, and still others that most readily respond 
through bodily movements. The first group is the group 
of optiles ; the second, the audiles ; the third, the motiles. 

If the teacher would investigate the foregoing fact for 
herself, she may arrange for a few tests, as follows. 
The students are directed each to note and report what 
image comes into mind when the teacher speaks the 
words "mother," "six," "party," and so on. With care- 
ful procedure the teacher will find that some students see 
the mother, others may hear her voice, and still others 
may discern their own movements of caressing the mother, 
or of speaking the word "mother," and so on. With 
reference to the number "six," some students may see 
the figure six, others may hear the spoken word only, and 
still others may feel the movement of writing the figure 
six. With reference to the word "party," some may see 
party faces, dresses, etc., others may hear party voices, 
party music, and so on, while still others may apperceive 
the party in terms of dancing, walking, standing, talking, 



METHODS 195 

or other movements. Most minds are mixed types ; 
that is, visual with reference to one experience, auditory 
in another, and motor in another. We may classify them, 
however, on the basis of the dominant tendency. 

The op tile may get poor hold of what he hears only, 
and audiles are likely to be slow in seizing what they see 
only, and motiles are most at home if they can do things. 
Thus the teacher who draws an illustration on the board, 
or writes a word or figure, must not forget that her effort 
may be especially helpful to only a third of her class; 
that another third needs rather the sound of her voice, 
while the others need the opportunity to draw or speak or 
write. These different types of mind must be allowed for, 
if we are to fit our teaching to the minds to be taught. 

Principle. — Teaching must allow for the fact that 
different stimuli are needed to appeal best to optiles, 
audiles, and motiles. 

There is a marked tendency among teachers to use 
quite exclusively such illustrations as are suggested by 
the teacher's own mental type. We must insist that this 
is an injustice to a large part of her class. Since the 
optile most readily visualizes things, and the audile most 
readily hears things, and the motile most readily acts 
things, the teaching process will go astray if it does not 
allow for all. Geometry teachers will find much of their 
trouble explained in this way; and the Latin teacher 
may get a helpful suggestion. The audile is likely to be 



196 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

weak in geometry, and perhaps ready in Latin ; while the 
motile will likely show the reverse. 

2. Methods of Dealing with Memory 

We now come to a mind function that every one 
appreciates: namely, memory. Teaching has always 
put great stress on memory work ; yet there is probably 
no mind function which has been so abused by bad meth- 
ods of dealing with it. We are still emerging from the 
age of " Mnemonic Helps" and "Memory Devices. , ' It 
may be frankly admitted that on the whole these so- 
called aids were bad doses for the already overburdened 
and dyspeptic memory ; and quite thankful we may be 
that their days are about over. 

The psychology of memory is neither intricate nor 
heavy ; and any teacher may discover the psychological 
bases of recall by experiment. 

Experiment for finding the Bases of Recall. — Write out 
a list of thirteen unrelated words, twelve of which are 
about equally interesting to a class of children, and one 
very interesting. The following list is suggestive, but 
only suggestive : — 

1. rat 6. grass house 

2. arithmetic 7. sugar 11. house 

3. water 8. Fourth of July [house 

4. book 9. paper 12. fish 

5. horse 10. stone 13. coal 



METHODS 197 

Each child is provided with pencil and paper, and 
notice is given that the teacher is about to read a list of 
thirteen words, and that the purpose is to see how many 
of them each can remember. All are instructed to listen 
intently until the reading is finished, no one writing in 
the meantime ; and that when the signal is given, each 
may write as many of the words as he can recall, and in 
any order of recall. The directions should be made clear 
before the list is read. Nothing need be said about the 
repeated word. 

If there are thirty children taking the test, something 
like the following result, taken from an actual test of 
thirty sixth-grade children, may be expected. The 
number opposite each word indicates the number of 
students who remembered the word. 

grass 20 house 

sugar 26 house 28 

Fourth of July 29 house 

paper 16 fish 23 

stone 19 coal 27 

The report reveals the fact that the first word, the last 
word, the repeated word, and the very interesting word 
are the best remembered words. Now repeat the test 
the next day; but this time make the most poorly re- 
membered word of the first test, " paper," the repeated 
word in the new test; and choose two other poorly 
remembered words of the first test, to be used as first 



rat 


27 


arithmetic 


24 


water 


18 


book 


21 


horse 


22 



198 



PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 



and last words of the new test. Substitute a new very 
interesting word. The new list may then stand as fol- 
lows : — 

1. stone 6. Christmas 

2. book 7. house 



3. coal 

4. fish 

5. arithmetic 



8. 



9. sugar 

10. horse 

11. rat 

12. grass 

13. water 



paper 
paper 
paper 

Care should be taken that, in rearranging the list, the 
words do not become related; that is, one suggesting 
the next through associated meaning. The following 
table will show about the result that may be expected, 
and this table represents an actual test as indicated 
before. 

me 

ok 

al 

h 

ithn 

The test again reveals the fact that the first word, the 
last word, the repeated word, and the very interesting 
word are the best remembered words. We should not 
assume that this test is invariable. The tests may ac- 
tually fail to give these results; but a majority of a 
dozen such tests will reveal such results, if the lists are 
varied and selected with care to fulfill directions as given. 
The fact that every remembered word is more or less 



stone 


28 


Christmas 28 


sugar 25 


book 


25 


house 


18 


horse 20 


coal 


20 


paper' 




rat 22 


fish 


21 


paper 


27 


grass 19 


arithmetic 


24 


paper 




water 26 



Psychological bases of recall 



METHODS 199 

interesting, and the interest not definitely known, is in 
the way. The two results given reveal the bases of 
recall : — 

Primacy 
Recency 
Repetition 
Interest 

The first word in each test was one of the best remem- 
bered, and it represents the primary impression. The 
last word was one of the best remembered, and it repre- 
sents the most recent impression. The repeated word 
in each case was well remembered, thus revealing the 
value of repetition. Finally, the most interesting word 
in each case was well remembered, thus revealing the 
value of interest, in determining what is remembered. 
We have now found experimentally the fundamental 
facts about memory; and the method used illustrates 
the laboratory method. Following the practice common 
to this method, we should now check up our results by 
experience, and see whether experience corroborates or 
negates our results. 

We have all had more or less experience with the mem- 
ory of aged minds. What does that experience reveal ? 
When the gray-haired man forgets everything else in his 
life experiences, those of his early days still cling. 
These are his primary impressions. Take now our case 
over into the schoolroom, and we may see what the evi- 



200 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

dence is there. Most every teacher has had some expe- 
rience in teaching children to "speak a piece. " Now 
suppose a child has learned his "piece/' and he comes up 
for the first rehearsal with one word of the selection so 
mangled that it spoils the meaning of the "piece." 
What does the teacher do? Well, she drills and drills 
(repetition) on the correct form until she feels that the 
unfortunate primary impression has been securely routed ; 
yet to make sure, the painstaking teacher drills a little 
more, and then a little more, all the time dreading the 
possibility of the return of the first impression. Finally, 
the child has said the selection through without mistake a 
score of times, and the teacher feels safe. The patrons 
gather, and our speaker is called out to do honor to the 
school and to the training. Now, teachers, without 
hearing the rest of this true story, what do you predict 
that this child did when he came to recite his "piece" 
under embarrassment of the audience? "Went back 
to the primary impression," you say. Well, that is what 
he did. Thus it is that we are all of us continually return- 
ing to our primary impressions, and the law of primacy 
holds in our experience. 

Next comes the law of recency. How does it check up 
with experience? When the teacher herself stocks up 
her memory for an examination, at what time does she get 
down to the hardest grind ? Not a year before the ex- 
amination, nor a month before ; but the few days immedi- 



METHODS 201 

ately preceding the ordeal are chosen in which to cram the 
facts. So, too, we review our students just before an ex- 
amination, for the reason that we believe in the recent 
effort. Thus the law of recency holds in our experience. 

Repetition is our third basis of recall, and no one will 
question its agreement with experience. When we would 
have the child learn the multiplication table, we have him 
repeat, repeat, repeat. When we would memorize a 
poem, a rule, a definition, we repeat. Yes, we fully 
believe in repetition, and everywhere we find the repe- 
titive memory worked to its own death. So many facts 
are ground in by repetition that they choke one another 
in the race for possession, and we all know from experi- 
ence that amazing majorities of facts thus memorized 
actually die out of mind. 

We finally come to the basis, interest. When we 
attend a lecture, what facts do we carry away with us that 
remain longest? It is very evident that they are the 
interesting facts. When we travel, what memories 
linger ? Again, the interesting experiences. When we 
have read the newspaper through, what items linger? 
Again, the interesting facts. So it is through the mani- 
fold experiences of life ; the interesting experience is the 
one that sticks with us. The law of interest is valid in 
all memory work. 

Principle. — Interest, repetition, primacy, and re- 
cency are the psychological bases of recall. 



202 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

The teacher may now be interested in knowing which 
of the bases of recall is most reliable. We have seen that 
it is the old in the new experience that gives us interest ; 
or, more specifically, the old repeated in the new is in- 
teresting. The old corresponds to the primary impres- 
sion, the new to the recent impression. Thus the old 
repeated in the new gives us primacy, repetition, and 
recency combined ; and the three together give interest. 
Formally considered, therefore, interest is equivalent to 
the other three bases combined. 

Principle. — The most potent basis of recall is interest. 

No fact ever comes into mind wholly isolated from 
the rest of our knowledge, for every fact must have some 
relation to past experience before it can have any mean- 
ing. The law of apperception holds ; and a thing with 
no meaning to us could never get into mind. The more 
past experiences a fact is related to, the more its associa- 
tions in the mind; hence the more effectively it is an- 
chored in memory. If a given idea is associated in mind 
with three ideas, it is, generally speaking, three times as 
likely to be recalled as though it were associated with 
but one ; for if any two ideas are associated, when either 
is called up, the other tends to come up with it. If, for 
example, we visit the United States Senate and hear a 
senator speak, the next time we visit the Senate we are 
likely to recall the senator and his speech. So, too, if we 
were to read the speech later, we should be continually 



METHODS 203 

thinking of the speaker and of the hall. The act of relat- 
ing two or more ideas is thinking. We have seen that no 
fact, whether primary or repeated or recent, can get into 
mind, let alone be recalled, without associations. It 
must be associated with ideas already in mind before it 
can have meaning. It is therefore evident that: — 

Principle. — The real key to memory is association, 
or thinking. 

We have just stated the most important law of memory 
that psychology has to offer the teacher. If the teacher 
would fix facts in the memory of her pupils, she should 
lead them to think about the facts. Have them see the 
cause of the fact, the effect of the fact, the use of the 
fact. If such relationships are established, the fact 
becomes a real mental possession. Thus, if the child is 
told that flies should be screened away from his table, 
he may readily forget the fact; but if he were shown 
the filth on a fly's foot, and the typhoid bacilli in it, he 
could see the relation of cause, and perhaps his own case 
of typhoid would assist him to appreciate the effect; 
and both would enable him to see the use of keeping 
flies away from his food. When he has thought out 
these relations, the chances are good that the sight of 
every fly on his food will recall the fact that we have 
sought to impress. 

So, too, if the child makes his own rule in arithmetic, 
and uses it; if he sees the cause of a history fact, and 



204 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

the result, as well as the value of the fact to himself; 
if he sees the reason for a grammatical construction, the 
use of it ; if, indeed, his school work is not a grind of 
the repetitive memory, but an intelligent understanding 
brought about by thinking things into relations, the 
teacher may rest assured that she is getting the highest 
value out of her educative processes, and at the same 
time she is a master mechanic of the memory art. 

We may now discern more fully why interest is such 
a potent basis of recall. The basis of all interest is use ; 
and only through thinking can one discern the use of a 
thing. When a mind has thought out the use of a fact, 
it has connected the idea of the fact with a multitude 
of other ideas. This working out of a network of rela- 
tions which the fact bears to other known facts secures 
the fact in memory. A perfect mind would mean, 
among other things, a complete system of interrelations 
among all the ideas known to it; and while we may 
never expect to reach a perfect mind, yet our ideas are 
useful to us just in the degree that they are related. 
We may therefore lay down the following: — 

Principle. — A stock of ideas is valuable in the degree 
that the ideas are built up into systems relating them in 
useful ways. 

There is no question but that our schools are still 
guilty of the stuffing process. We are too anxious to 
read just so many books, to cover just so much of the 



METHODS 205 

course of study, rather than to set the young to work 
on the serious task of thinking their experiences over 
into the values of life. We still rely far too much on 
the examination, with its wretched tendency to foster 
the very stuffing process that we would avoid. We 
preach one thing, and we do a very different thing ; but 
always it seems to be the purpose to stuff the memory 
through repetition. The fact is, from the primary school 
through to the final degree in the university, we are 
still on a dead strain to remember, and we are not giving 
enough time to thinking ideas out into their many essen- 
tial relations. Therefore we fail to remember. Think- 
ing is the real key to memory ; and if there is no think- 
ing, then repetition can avail nothing. The obsolete 
name for the stuffing process is " cramming"; but per- 
haps it is not good form to resurrect this term here. 
The pity is, not that we still have the name, but that 
we have the process which it names. Cramming is 
attempted memory through repetition and recency ; but 
since the essential key, thinking, is lacking, real memory 
is also lacking ; and thus the ideas loosely jumbled into 
mind soon fall out from the lack of connecting roots. 

Principle. — Cramming is memory on the bases of 
repetition and recency ; and it fails in the degree that it 
lacks association of ideas, or thinking. 

Returning now to the basis primacy, we should note 
that, while primary impressions are not relatively numer- 



206 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

ous in the school, yet there are many primary or semi- 
primary impressions which should be guarded in school. 
Thus it is important that the child should conceive the 
school, not as a penitentiary, but as a happy social unity 
in which each is working for the good of all. The first 
impressions which the child gets of the teacher and of 
school authority mean much ; and the first impressions 
of books, of study, of school freedom, of tolerance, of 
give and take in unity, are of vital concern. A favor- 
able primary impression is a memory boon ; but a bad 
first impression is hard to overcome. 

Principle. — The primacy basis of memory is the 
teacher's ally so long as first impressions are favorable 
to the aim of education. 

When we come to a closer study of the recency basis 
of memory, we wonder what life would be if the recent 
and near-at-hand experiences appealed to us no more 
than others. The present must mean more to us than 
the past, for we are living in the present. Our brains 
are so constructed that our recent experiences, on the 
whole, are more vivid, more present in mind, than the 
removed experiences of the past. There are thousands 
of past experiences which will never be repeated, hence 
we would not have them linger in the mind. Recency 
tends to relieve us from going over and over these ex- 
periences, so long as the near-at-hand is of interest to us. 

Principle. — The recency basis of memory is an 



METHODS 207 

efficient means of freeing the mind from the treadmill 
of past experiences. 

We all have heard people lament the fact that our 
minds do not retain everything; in brief, that we are 
not so constructed that our minds could forget nothing. 
Such a construction would be a calamity. If we re- 
tained, with impartial memory, every fact of experience, 
what a fearful load of lumber we should have to over- 
haul in every act of thinking. We are occasionally put 
to discomfort by forgetfulness, but better that than to 
have our minds stuffed with the significant and the in- 
significant alike, until our thoughts could hardly turn 
round. Forgetfulness has its value ; and a good memory 
forgets a multitude of past experiences. What a memory 
should retain is that group of past experiences which is 
needed to anticipate what our next step should be; in 
short, the future. This is exactly what interest is 
struggling to do. 

Principle. — A memory is good in the degree that it 
remembers those portions of past experience which are 
valuable in anticipating the future ; and this is the evi- 
dence of the extreme value of the interest basis of memory. 

It is conceded that one memory is better or worse 
than another. We are born with brainstuff of some 
quality, and this perhaps the teacher cannot change. 
As one magnet retains better than another the changes 
made in it, so one brain retains better than another the 



208 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

changes made in it. This quality is what the psychol- 
ogist calls native retentivity. Psychologists are not 
agreed as to whether or not education can change the 
native retentivity ; but memory through the association 
of ideas is what the teacher can and must command; 
and the association of ideas, as we have already pointed 
out, is thinking. If the teacher would investigate the 
value of thinking as a basis of remembering, let her keep 
a record of evidence of decaying memory in the aged. 
It will be found that the earliest loss is the memory of 
proper names. The gray-haired man is constantly 
troubled to recall names. His memory of relation words — 
that is, verbs, adjectives, prepositions, and conjunctions 
— is far more true to the very end. Most names, espe- 
cially proper names, have no inherent meaning. They 
stand rather for the concrete object. Relation words, 
on the other hand, as the name indicates, reveal rela- 
tion, association, thinking. We accept names, and ask 
no reason ; indeed there is usually no meaning to them, 
and John is simply John. 

With relation words, the case is quite different. We 
cannot use such words until we have discerned their 
meaning, and this we do by comparing the cases in 
which they are used. In other words, we must first 
think out their meaning, and every time we use them 
in life, we must think their meaning. It is thinking, 
therefore, repeated thinking, that fixes the relation word 



METHODS 209 

in memory. So, too, it is the use of proper nouns through 
acceptance and without meaning, or at best with only 
accidental and varying associations, that gives them 
their loose hold in memory. 

Perhaps our treatment of methods of dealing with 
memory should not be closed without attempting to 
lay down a principle to guide the teacher in the serious 
problem of determining what should be memorized. 
The earthworm style of swallowing down everything, in 
the hope of getting the right thing, is no longer per- 
missible in education. The teacher must now know the 
specific what and why of memory work required. His- 
tory may no longer be a matter of committing and recit- 
ing pages, nor geography a matter of memorizing places, 
nor grammar a matter of memorizing rules and forms. 
We have all perhaps seen the futility, to say nothing of 
the waste, of such teaching methods ; and we are now 
demanding definite aims and definite results just in the 
degree that teaching is a profession and not a trade. 

The real fact of our case is, we shall have quite enough 
for the best of our memories to do, if they retain only 
those facts of experience which the teacher can discern 
are likely to be used. There is no end to facts which 
might be memorized, and no memory could retain more 
than a mere fraction of them. We are therefore brought 
down to selection, and only the most useful facts should 
be memorized. It is at least safe to rule out the memori- 



2IO PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

zation of such facts as are not repeated often enough in 
experience to hold them there after they have been 
memorized. We may therefore lay down the following 
law of memorization : — 

Principle. — Memorize those facts of experience which 
are likely to be repeated often enough in life to be 
retained. 

The rule for adding fractions is likely to be repeated 
frequently in the life of any individual ; hence it should 
be memorized by every child who formulates it in 
arithmetic. It is reasonably certain that the rule for 
finding the greatest common divisor will not be useful 
in the life of the individual; hence it should not be 
memorized. So, too, the child should be drilled on the 
spelling of words which he uses, but he should not spend 
time learning to spell words which he does not use; 
and no child should spend time and energy in memoriz- 
ing definitions or rules or paragraphs which do not 
promise a wide range of usefulness. 

3. Methods of Dealing with Imagination 

Imagination is virtually a closed book to most 
teachers, and misunderstanding is the result of the lack 
of comprehensive insight into this function. A better 
understanding of the working of the imagination is one 
of the sore needs of the schoolroom ; yet the methods 
of dealing with the imagination of the child are not as 



METHODS 211 

difficult to comprehend as the prevailing lack of their 
understanding would seem to indicate. 

Imagination may be briefly defined as the conscious- 
ness of objects not present to the senses. All memory 
is therefore imagination. If the mind were unable to 
bring back into consciousness an object once present to 
the senses, — that is, if it could not imagine the object, — 
then there could be no memory. It should be at once 
pointed out that both memory and imagination deal 
exclusively with the materials supplied by experience, 
and that the most fanciful imagination can imagine 
nothing whose elements, at least, have not come through 
experience. No imagination can picture a color which 
it has not seen, a taste which it has not met in experi- 
ence, or a smell which it has not encountered before. 

Principle. — The material of imagination is past ex- 
perience. 

Memory gives us a more,, or less faithful reproduction 
of past experience ; but since our interests bias us in see- 
ing, hearing, feeling, and so on, no memory ever gave one 
a complete and perfect reproduction of past experience. 
Now, imagination may seize the past experience, break 
it up, perhaps, and recombine the elements into wholes 
to suit the individual's impulses ; yet no absolutely new 
element can appear. There is nothing in the mind not 
previously in the senses. 

Memory always refers to an experience as past; but 



212 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

time reference is not necessary to imagination. In other 
words, memory locates an experience in time ; but imag- 
ination may deal with past experiences without thought 
of when they occurred. When the mind simply repro- 
duces, or reinstates, a past experience, we have the play 
of what the psychologist calls the reproductive imagina- 
tion. If, in addition, the mind recognizes the experience 
as one which it has experienced before, we have memory. 
Memory is, therefore, reproduction and recognition of past 
experience. If, on the other hand, the mind reproduces 
images and puts them together in new ways, we have the 
play of the constructive imagination. Thus the ancients 
imaged the head of a man and the body of a horse, and 
combined them to give the centaur. So, too, the con- 
structive imagination has given us the Brooklyn Bridge, 
the screw propeller, and the whole array of inventions ; 
but no element of any of them that did not come through 
experience. 

We have already noted that we anticipate the future on 
the basis of the past. The value of memory is seen in 
the fact that experiences repeat themselves, and that what 
has been in the past will be again, with some changes, 
perhaps, in the future. We all know that it is seldom that 
an experience is repeated in exact copy ; but we have to 
deal a little differently with to-day's experience. Im- 
agination makes it possible for us to deal with changing 
experiences, as memory adjusts us to unchanging experi- 



METHODS 213 

ences. Thus imagination has its function in life. If we 
are to be a progressive race, rather than static, we must 
believe in the constructive, the higher form of imagina- 
tion ; and the teacher must understand this brain func- 
tion and deal with it freely, in the effort to realize the 
values of life. 

Tradition tells us that the child is strongly imaginative, 
and that the childish fancy should give place to the real 
problems of life. Let us see if the real teacher, experience, 
agrees with this. Suppose the teacher would teach the 
child the number idea 3 plus 2 are 5. How does the child 
mind work in getting possession of this idea ? and what 
function does the imagination serve in the process? 
Here is a primary fact to be taught ; hence it must be 
presented objectively. Suppose the child is first led to 
see that — 

3 acorns + 2 acorns = 5 acorns. 

So far, the number fact is hopelessly unified with the idea 
acorns; and if it should happen that the child could never 
see this number idea except in connection with acorns, 
then he could never get the number idea loose from the 
idea acorn; hence five would always mean to him five 
acorns. The teacher therefore next shows him the num- 
ber fact in a new connection, say, — 

3 splints + 2 splints = 5 splints. 

The child has now seen the number fact in connection 



214 * PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

with acorns, and also with splints. The number fact 
itself, therefore, is formally twice as strong as either idea, 
acorn or splint. Thus when the child thinks 3 + 2 = 5, 
either of the two ideas is about as likely to come up as the 
other. The number idea is thus becoming freed from 
the concrete. 
The teacher next gives the child a new concrete ; say, — 

3 apples + 2 apples = 5 apples. 

The number idea is now three times as strong as any one 
of the ideas, acorn or splint or apple ; and when it comes 
to mind, the tendency of any one of the varying ideas to 
come up is checked by a similar tendency of each of the 
others (primacy, recency, and interest have some in- 
fluence here) ; hence the number idea is being freed from 
the varying concomitants. 

Suppose the child next meets this number idea in con- 
nection with trees, and then in connection with pencils, 
and so on. The number idea is thus gaining in strength, 
while the varying ideas are losing through conflict. As 
experience widens, the difference is increased, and the 
time comes when the permanent idea, the number idea, 
will be freed from the concrete, and become competent 
to exist in mind as a mere abstraction, but applicable to 
any concrete. 

The law which accounts for the formation of any and all 
abstractions has just been illustrated, and since it is an 



METHODS 215 

important law in teaching, we may give it the following 
simple statement : — 

Principle (Law of Varying Concomitants). — If a 
given element of experience is associated at various 
times with various elements of experience unlike each 
other, the tendency toward the recall of any one of these 
various elements is checked by a similar tendency in 
favor of each of the others ; so that the one permanent 
element will be set free from its varying concomitants. 

It is important to note here that when the number idea 
has been isolated, it exists only in imagination. Three- 
ness, twoness, and fiveness exist nowhere independently 
in the world ; but they are discerned by the mind in re- 
lation to objects. In the beginning, the child could not 
imagine these abstractions, for the reason that he lacked 
the number of experiences necessary to isolate them from 
the concrete. Not until the child can think the number 
in the abstract, can he readily apply it to any of his life 
problems; and numbers are rapid and convenient tools 
for handling experience, just in the degree that they are 
abstract, purely imaginative. Until the child can isolate 
the enduring elements of any experience, he cannot im- 
agine that experience in any ready way ; and the wider 
and more varied the experience, the stronger the imagi- 
nation becomes. 

Principle. — Imagination grows strong with the ability 
to isolate the idea from the real ; and this ability comes 



2l6 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

only through the law of varying concomitants, operating 
on a varied experience. 

By way of further illustration, we may investigate the 
mind movement in forming the conception, rectangle. 
Suppose the teacher first presents a rectangle of white 
pasteboard, 8 by 3 inches. In so far as the child can 
image the rectangle, the image may contain the following 
elements : — 

plane surface opposite sides parallel 

pasteboard four right angles 

four sides size 4X3 inches 

The teacher next presents a rectangle, say, of ordinary red 
paper, 5 by 4 inches. The child mind may, in this case, 
discern the following elements : — 

plane surface opposite sides parallel 

ordinary paper four right angles 

four sides size 5x4 inches 

If now the rectangles be laid aside, and the child forms the 
image, rectangle, the common elements of the two rec- 
tangles of his experience will be stronger than the varying 
elements, and they thus begin to pull away from the vary- 
ing elements. 

A third rectangle is met ; say, one of yellow wood, 12 by 
2 inches ; a fourth one of blue cloth, 7 by 6 ; a fifth one of 
black sheet iron, 9 by 12, and so on. The child mind now 
images the common elements far more readily than the 



METHODS 217 

uncommon; and the conflicting uncommon elements 
lose in the race for recognition. The child's idea of rec- 
tangle will thus contain the permanent, the essential ele- 
ments : plane surface, four sides, opposite sides parallel, 
and four right angles; with the weak, accidental ele- 
ments : pasteboard, paper, sheet iron, wood, etc., lag- 
ging behind. 

As experience widens, the child finds no rectangle that 
does not reveal the essential elements, and they come in 
time to dominate the idea, rectangle. With wide ex- 
perience, therefore, when the mind thinks rectangle, the 
strong, enduring, essential elements are the only ones that 
are sure to come up. Thus the common elements come 
to be the past experience which gives meaning to the 
rectangle. The common elements, then, constitute the 
definition of rectangle; that is, a rectangle is a plane 
figure having four sides, the opposite sides parallel, and 
four right angles ; or, more briefly, a rectangle is a right- 
angled parallelogram. 

We may now inquire a little more fully into the 
method of formulating definitions. If we can discover 
a form through which imagination moves in framing 
definitions, we can facilitate the defining process. The 
following experiences, common definitions, may be our 
teacher : — 



2l8 



PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 



Name 



Class 



Distinguishing 
Characteristics 



i. A quadrilateral is a plane figure having four sides. 

2. A parallelogram is a quadrilateral whose opposite 

sides are paral- 
lel. 

3. A rectangle is a parallelogram whose angles are 

right angles. 

4. A square is a rectangle whose sides are 

equal. 

5. A square is a parallelogram having equal sides 

and right angles. 

6. A square is a quadrilateral with equal sides, 

the opposite 
sides parallel, 
and the angles 
right angles. 

It may be noted that in each of these definitions, we 
have first named the thing to be defined ; next we have 
classified it; and lastly we have distinguished it from 
others of its class. Thus in the first definition we named 
the thing to be defined, "a quadrilateral," then we clas- 
sified it into the class " plane figure," and lastly, since 
not all plane figures are quadrilaterals, we distinguished 
the quadrilateral from all other plane figures, by stating 
that it has four sides. 



METHODS 219 

We have given three definitions of the square. In the 
first the square is classified in the narrow class "rec- 
tangle"; hence the differentiating characteristics are 
few; namely, " equal sides." In the second case it is 
classified in a larger class, " parallelograms" ; hence more 
differentiating characteristics are necessary to set it off 
from all other parallelograms; namely, " equal sides and 
right angles." The " right angles" are included in the 
classification " rectangle" in the first case. In the third 
case the square is classified in the broad class " quadrilat- 
eral"; hence still more differentiae are required; namely, 
"equal sides, the opposite sides parallel, and the angles 
right angles." No doubt we are ready to concede that 
the first definition of the square is the best of the three, 
if the class "rectangle" is known. If it is not known, 
then the next narrower class, "parallelogram," is to be 
preferred, if it is known ; for the narrower the class, the 
simpler the definition. 

Summarizing now, we have the definition form : — 

Principle. — A definition is a statement that (1) names 
the thing to be defined, (2) classifies it into the smallest 
familiar class, and (3) distinguishes it from other indi- 
viduals of its class. 

It is to be noted that the definition is a mere abstrac- 
tion, existing only in imagination. The moment we have 
a real rectangle or square, that moment we have paper or 
wood or some varying element, or elements. Without 



220 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

imagination, therefore, we could not conceive a definition. 
So, too, without a rather wide experience from which to 
isolate the essential elements, we could not formulate a 
definition; hence, as already pointed out, it is unreasonable 
to expect young students to define. Moreover, in fram- 
ing a definition, it is of the highest importance that the 
teacher use ample material to identify all the common 
elements and to exclude the varying elements. 

Principle. — In framing a definition, sufficient material 
should be used "to identify the common elements, and to 
eliminate the varying elements, of the individuals in- 
cluded. 

The teacher will find the definition form a useful guide 
in defining; and with a little practice students readily 
come to adopt it, for the reason that it helps them think 
out a definition. It also serves as a standard for judging 
definitions. The ability to define is an excellent test of 
the scientific status of mind. 

Textbooks very commonly reveal weak efforts at de- 
fining. Thus the grammar text may tell us that "A sub- 
ject of a sentence is that of which something is said. ,, If 
we attempt to apply this definition, we can see the de- 
ficiency. Thus in the sentence "A stone is heavy" the 
thing of which something is said is, a stone. A stone 
cannot be the subject of a sentence, for the reason that a 
sentence is made up of words. The words "a stone,' ' 
and not a stone, constitute the subject of this sentence. 



METHODS 221 

There is a wide difference between a stone and the words 
"a stone." 

Similarly, the definition of the sentence predicate, "A 
predicate of a sentence is that which is said of the sub- 
ject," is not true. Both of the definitions offered are 
taken from a textbook on grammar ; yet both definitions 
are untrue, for the reason that they classify badly. The 
subject of a sentence, as well as the predicate of a sen- 
tence, cannot be other than a word or words; hence 
a definition of either must classify it accordingly. The 
subject of a sentence is a word or group of words which 
indicates that of which something is said; and the 
predicate of a sentence is the word or group of words 
which express what is said of the thing indicated by the 
subject. 

There is another caution which should not be omitted 
here, and which reveals the bad defining common in text- 
books. We have seen that a definition gives only the 
common elements of the individuals included. It follows, 
therefore, that any distinguishing characteristic stated 
in the definition must be true of all individuals included 
under the definition; in brief, a definition must unify 
all individuals included by it. Thus it is evident that a 
definition of the square must include nothing that is not 
common to all squares. Suppose we should define the 
square as an equilateral rectangle composed of wood, iron, 
or paper. Our definition would not be acceptable, for 



222 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

the reason that the statement allows accidental elements 
to creep in and break up the unity. Whatever the defi- 
nition states must be true of every individual included 
under it, and there must be no disharmony. 

Principle. — A definition must unify all individuals 
included, and exclude all disharmonizing elements. 

Such a definition as "A man is a male human being 
with red hair or blue eyes or dark skin" is untenable. So, 
too, is the definition " A verb is a word which expresses 
action or being or state." If some verbs express action, 
some being, and some state, we do not object; neither 
do we object if some men have red hair, some blue eyes, 
and some dark skin. But we cannot admit these acci- 
dental elements into our definitions. These definitions 
fail to unify. There is but one thing that all verbs do 
in common, and that is, they assert relation. A verb 
may therefore be defined as a word which asserts the rela- 
tion of thought subject and thought predicate. 

The safest plan in all definition work is to lead the 
child to formulate his own definitions out of his experience, 
as was just indicated in framing the definition of " defini- 
tion." If teachers were to study the results of giving defi- 
nitions ready made, by book or otherwise, they would 
soon come to have little confidence in ready-made defi- 
nitions. The only definition that the child comprehends 
is the definition that represents his own experience with 
the thing defined ; and it is a mistake to have him attack 



METHODS 223 

formal definitions until he is able to derive them from 
his growing experience. 

Principle. — The only definition that counts is the 
definition that is derived from the child's own experience ; 
and as the child advances through the grades, he is ready 
to handle formal definitions when he can derive them 
from his experience. 

We have now seen that the young child is unable to 
handle the formal definition in school for the reason that 
his imagining ability is weak, and that it can grow strong 
only through a widened experience. This is quite con- 
trary to the traditional belief in the child's imagination. 
The fact that children are full of impulses and feelings, 
with little power of control, makes them very ready to read 
their impulses and feelings into things. Thus the boy 
feels that he must have a horse, and forthwith he reads 
his feelings into a broomstick, and lo, a horse. So, too, 
the girl reads her feelings into a wretched rag, and that 
rag becomes at once a doll, rather, a living child. No one 
would thoughtfully take all this for strong imagination. 
It is rather imitative and reproductive, with some glimpse 
of higher things beyond. It is true that the child is very 
imaginative, for his imagination plays upon his surround- 
ings much of the time ; but we must not mistake this for 
strong imagination. It is rather the promise of a strong 
imagination. We should hardly expect the case to be 
otherwise, for it would seem that the strongest imagina- 



224 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

tive efforts of the childish mind would have to be of the 
reproductive type to begin with. The reproductive im- 
agination must always precede the constructive. Until 
a mind can reproduce its experience freely, it cannot build 
with it. 

Principle. — Contrary to tradition, the child is not 
strongly imaginative ; and what imaginative power he has 
is chiefly of the reproductive type. 

The fact that the child has but feeble power of construc- 
tive imagination makes justifiable the use of the myth 
and the fairy story ; and were we to concede the child 
a strong imagination, we should have no adequate de- 
fense for using these unrealities in the school. No one 
should decry the myth. It is unreality, for it deals with 
things that do not really exist ; yet the value of the myth 
and the fairy tale lies in the fact that they lead the child 
to construct these unreal things out of his experience. 
This is exactly what all invention, all progress, means. 
Before the dynamo existed as reality, it had to be con- 
structed by a strong imagination, working on a rich 
mechanical experience. Before the printing press, the 
arc light, the wireless telegraph, and all other inventions 
existed as realities, they had to be constructed by im- 
agination, working on past experience. Exactly this is 
what the myth and the fairy story demand of children. 
No one should fear the unreal, for all progress is born 
of unreality. The real is already with us ; and it is what 



METHODS 225 

we have not, the unreal, the imaginary, for which we 
strive. When the teacher, without stuffing the child to 
the point of weakening, utilizes the unreal fairy tale to 
impel the childish imagination to construct the unreal, 
she is fitting him for progress; and the myth and the 
fairy story, not overdone to the point of mental colic, 
with its sleepless nights, have paved the way for many 
an inventive mind. 

Principle. — Since the child has but feeble power of 
constructive imagination, the myth and the fairy story 
are justifiable means of impelling him to construct the 
unreal out of his real experience. 

We saw in our study of the child's ability to think 
number ideas and definitions, that it is only a wide ex- 
perience, operated on by the law of varying concomitants, 
that gives the child the ability to isolate the idea, a thing 
of mind, from the real, or objective, thing. When the 
child has freed an idea from the real, he has a mental con- 
tent at once new and strange to him. Children who in 
this mental state attempt to express themselves to others 
are commonly mistaken for " liars." Thus a child cross- 
ing Chesapeake Bay on a steamer, after sitting spell- 
bound for some time looking into the water, ran suddenly 
to his mother, and exclaimed, a O mamma! I just caught 
a big fish, bigger than you are ! I was holding my foot 
in the water, and a great big fish caught hold of my toe, 
and I kicked him up on to the boat, and the men got him 

Q 



226 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

and ate him up ! " That unknowing mother was shocked, 
and said, "Oh, my child is becoming a fearful story teller! 
What shall I do ? What shall I do ? " 

Now let us inspect this child's mind, and see if he is to 
be branded a prevaricator. We will readily concede that 
the child was thinking intently, and that in his imagina- 
tion a big fish came up and caught his toe ; and that in 
his imagination an impulse kicked the fish out on deck ; 
and that in his imagination the men seized the good big 
fish, and appropriated him in the usual way. All these 
conceptions are but the simplest alterations of the child's 
experiences; and without fishing experiences, he never 
could have constructed these fishing ideas. 

The child probably started off with the impulse to put 
his foot into the water. He had put his foot into water 
before. Then came the thought of danger to his foot, 
since fish are in the water ; and fish have perhaps nibbled 
at his toes in time past. This is big water, bigger than 
he has ever had his toes in; hence the idea of the big fish. 
The little fish that have nibbled at his toes in time past 
were too small to take a good hold of his toe, the bait ; 
but this big imaginary fish can take hold, does take hold, 
indeed, and then comes the effort to land him. The 
effort succeeds ; and the usual sequence, the consump- 
tion of the fish for food, is less interesting. The interest 
here is chiefly in outdoing the big fish, and so the process 
of preparing and eating the fish is abbreviated. 



METHODS 227 

All this imagining is so close to real and interesting ex- 
perience that it is vivid and real to the child ; so real, in- 
deed, that the child may hardly be able to distinguish it 
from reality. If, now, the child in this vivid dream is 
unable to distinguish vivid imaginings from reality, then 
he is in the condition that we all find ourselves in when we 
are not sure whether we dreamed a thing or whether it 
really happened. 

Now comes the effort to tell the experience. Whether 
or not the child was unable to distinguish this vivid im- 
aginary experience from reality, the case is not changed 
when he comes to tell it to others. The significant fact 
is, he has isolated a chain of ideas, at once unnamed and 
strange to him ; namely, the idea of bait — not simply 
worms, but any flesh with which to catch fish ; the idea of 
fishing rod — not simply a wooden pole, but his leg now 
answers ; the idea of landing the fish, not simply on land, 
but to a place of safety ; and the idea of fish as food, not 
simply for himself, but for any one. Now how can the 
child tell all this new and strange experience ? He must 
tell it ; indeed, he does tell it, and that, too, in the only 
way he can ; namely, in the language at his command. 
Could we expect the child to say, "Mamma, I was 
just imagining, what if I were to put my foot into the 
water and a big fish should come up and take hold of it 
for bait, and I should use my leg, pole-like, to land him on 
the deck of the boat where we could get him and eat him 



228 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

for food?" No, no. The child lacks the necessary 
speech ; but he has the thought, and he does all that he 
can do when he tells it in his realistic way, not "I im- 
agine," but "I caught." 

The child was not a liar, but a progressive discoverer 
of ideas. It was not a flogging that he needed, but some 
one to understand him and assist him. A more knowing 
mother would not have reproved the boy for " lying," 
but she would have said, "My little boy doesn't mean to 
tell me that all this really happened ; but he should say, 
I was just thinking, what if it should happen." Then 
the mother should have had the boy use her better speech. 

The liar is one who distinguishes the idea, the unreal, 
from the real, but immorally substitutes the idea for 
reality. Since children are often unable to make this 
distinction, or if made, then unable to find appropriate 
language to express it, we are sadly in error when we mis- 
take them for "born liars." Every child meets both of 
these mental states, and incidental instruction has a duty 
in helping the child safely through. 

Lack of speech cripples any thinking process ; and only 
a strong-minded adult, a Shakespeare, can move forward 
by breaking the bonds of speech. 

Principle. — When the child becomes able to think an 
idea free from the real, he is unable at once to find lan- 
guage to express his new mental state, hence he needs 
assistance. 



METHODS 229 

We may discern a danger here. While the child is not 
a "born liar," as some have named him, there is a pos- 
sible danger that he may become a liar. If he freely 
communicates his unreal contrivances as real, and finds 
the practice useful ; that is, entertaining without reproof, 
he may become a liar. The hope here lies in the chances 
of failure to be believed, plus a candid interference. No 
child should be allowed to proceed with his unreal con- 
trivances to the point of entertainment. 

Principle. — If the child is allowed to freely commu- 
nicate his imaginary contrivances as real, he may find 
the conduct useful and hence become a liar. 

We should not fail to discern the pleasure which a 
mind instinctively finds in its power of imagination. 
The distinguishing characteristic of the imagining func- 
tion is freedom ; for the imagination represents the free 
play of impulse upon past experience. Mind universally 
finds satisfaction in its own freedom; hence the child 
mind, dominated as it is by impulse and feeling, instinc- 
tively loves to toy with the little imaginative power which 
it can command, and so it projects its own feelings and 
impulses into objects. The chilo! is therefore very imag- 
inative ; but this does not mean that he is strongly imag- 
inative. Now this tendency of the child to project his 
own impulses and feelings into things, as is seen in the 
boy astride of the broomstick, must fade away as experi- 
ence teaches him how to control his impulses and feelings ; 



230 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

hence it is not nature's plan to have the boy become a 
liar. 

Perhaps we should not close the treatment of methods 
of dealing with the imagination without specific refer- 
ence to the extreme value of the imagining power. 

Mind is confronted by a world of objects which seems 
real to us; and yet this reality is only in appearance, 
for no one of those objects can long endure. That pocket- 
knife, that garden hoe, that home, indeed, that very tomb 
and tombstone, are not enduring, for time will obliterate 
them ; the ages will leave no trace of recognition. What 
we by custom call the real world is, after all, then, not 
real, for it is changing; and anything that is changing 
is unreal. The things that we see, hear, feel, taste, and 
smell are therefore all unreal ; for they are not enduring, 
not eternal. Now, in that pocketknife, there is an idea 
which created it, and the pocketknife reveals it. Had 
no mind ever conceived a pocketknife, we never could 
have had a pocketknife in the world. To understand, 
to know, the pocketknife, the mind must penetrate to 
the idea which created it ; and every blade, every rivet, 
the shape, the size, the, weight, are all determined by 
that creative idea, and they all reveal that idea. Destroy 
that pocketknife if you will, and the idea that created 
it will create more ; that is, the idea will cause the pocket- 
knife to reappear ; but destroy the idea, and we can have 
no more pocketknives. Thus it is the idea, and not the 



METHODS 231 

real, that is the enduring reality. The idea, then, is 
the important thing, the enduring thing, in everything ; 
while the thing that appeals to the senses cannot endure. 
"Look not at things which are seen, for the things which 
are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen 
are eternal. " Stated less beautifully, but perhaps more 
clearly, this educational law becomes : — 

Principle. — The idea is the abiding reality ; the real 
is subject to change, hence unreal. 

Every object existing in the world first existed in idea. 
Had mind never conceived the Brooklyn Bridge as idea, 
it never could have existed for the senses. Back of every 
object is an idea which is creator indeed; and back of 
all the world, the universe of worlds, is the Ultimate Idea, 
the Ultimate Reality, that has created all. Every ob- 
ject, therefore, reveals mind, the mind that created it 
and understood it ; and to learn the object, to know it, 
we must penetrate to the mind within the object. Man 
may recognize the butterfly when he sees it; but if he 
would know it in reality, he must see it as the creator 
saw it. So, too, if we would know the "Stamp Act," 
the "Boston Tea Party," the "Bill of Rights," the Con- 
stitution, the alphabet, anything indeed, we must get 
beneath the outer cloak and into the ideas that created 
them. 

The reality of a thing, then, never appears to the 
senses ; but the thing embodies the reality, the idea, the 



232 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

meaning. We must come into sense contact with ob- 
jects to get experience. Imagination reproduces that 
experience at will ; and an image is a more or less faithful 
mind-copy of sense experience. With wider experience 
we get a variety of images of any given sense contact, 
and the accidental and varying elements weaken out, 
while the enduring, the essential, elements grow strong 
in accordance with the law of varying concomitants. 
These enduring elements of experience constitute the 
idea, the meaning of the object; and with these essen- 
tials in our possession we may create objects by working 
in accidental and varying elements. No two men would 
make two pocketknives exactly alike; yet both would 
reveal the essential elements of pocketknives. Experi- 
ence has given each of them the essential elements, the 
idea pocketknife; otherwise neither could define and 
make a pocketknife. Whether' there are two blades or 
three or five, is of little consequence. It could be a knife 
if it had but one. In any case there must be a blade, 
inclosed in a handle of size suited to the pocket. 

Thus it is that the imagination enables us to isolate the 
enduring, the agreeing elements, out of experience ; and 
we are never satisfied with an experience until we can 
identify it with past experience ; that is, until we can 
see its meaning, its agreement with past experience. 
Throughout life we go on remolding our experience, for we 
would have everything find its place in a systematic whole, 



METHODS 233 

a universe. Chaos sets us crazy, and we cannot rest till 
we see things in agreement ; for unity is the fundamental 
law of mind. This native impulse to find unity is what 
we have already called the curiosity instinct ; and it is 
this impulse, pushing us along to find a universe, that is 
the root of our belief in God and an ideal world. An 
ideal world to any mind must be a world in absolute 
harmony, for unity is the fundamental law of mind. 
Principle. — Unity is the fundamental law of mind ; 
and the instinctive craving after unity is curiosity. 

4. Methods of Dealing with Reasoning 

We have seen how the mind unifies its experiences in 
deriving ideas. Indeed, we have found that unity is the 
fundamental law of mind. We may now inquire how the 
mind proceeds, according to its unifying tendency, to 
unify its ideas into larger systems; and we would dis- 
cover, if possible, the methods of dealing with mind in its 
further unifying processes. 

Suppose the mind has isolated two ideas, "house" and 
"red," from its experience. It may now meet an experi- 
ence in which these two ideas unify ; that is, it may come 
upon a red house. The discovery of this relationship, 
of this unity, is the mind process which we call thinking ; 
and the thought may be expressed in the sentence "The 
house is red." Thinking may therefore be defined as the 
unification of ideas. 



234 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

In a similar way, the mind proceeds to unify its 
thoughts. Thus we may have the two thoughts: — 
"A lion is a four-footed beast." 
"All four-footed beasts are quadrupeds." 
From the fact that these two thoughts have a common 
element, " four-footed beast," the mind quickly unifies 
the two thoughts and draws the conclusion, — 

"The lion is a quadruped." 
This process is called reasoning ; and reasoning may be 
defined as the unification of thoughts. 

The psychologist discerns two types of reasoning, one 
of which is called induction, the other deduction. 

Inductive Reasoning 
Suppose a man meets a swan, and among other things 
he notes that the swan is white. He meets a second swan, 
and again, among other things, he notes that the swan 
is white. He now begins to suspect, perhaps, that all 
swans are white. He meets a third swan, notes that it is 
white, and his notion that all swans are white is strength- 
ened. He goes on with his experience, and finds a fourth, 
a fifth, a sixth, and so on, to the twelfth swan, all white. 
Ere this number is met, the mind has unified the individual 
experiences into the all-embracing notion that all swans 
are white. This process of unifying individual thoughts, 
or notions, into an all-embracing general thought, or 
notion, is called induction, or inductive reasoning. 



METHODS 235 

Deductive Reasoning 

Granting now that the man has reached the conclusion 
that all swans are white, we may see how he will use it. 
All his past experiences with swans have revealed, among 
other permanent elements, the permanent element white- 
ness ; hence, according to the law of definition, whiteness 
is a part of the past experience, a part of the meaning, 
which he now reads into swans. When, therefore, he 
hears that John Brown has a swan, he at once apperceives 
the swan in the light of his past experience, and to his 
mind John Brown's swan is white. This process of 
thinking an individual notion in the light of a general 
notion is called deduction, or deductive reasoning. 

Both these forms of reasoning are very common in life. 
Thus a child repeatedly sees clouds form and rain follow, 
and he inductively comes to the conclusion that clouds 
bring rain. He meets a few bees, is stung a few times, 
and he comes to the conclusion that bees are dangerous. 
He tries his hand at milking cows, is kicked a number of 
times, and he comes to the conclusion that cows are dan- 
gerous. He sees a number of buttercups, finds none that 
are not yellow, and he comes to the conclusion that butter- 
cups are yellow. He disobeys his parents a few times, is 
punished as many times, and he infers that disobedience 
brings pain. So, too, the crude-minded adult, who meets 
bad luck a few times after " turning back to the house," 



236 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

concludes that turning back brings bad luck. The good 
luck "new moon over the right shoulder," and the bad 
luck "new moon over the left shoulder," the unlucky 
number thirteen, the lucky finding of a horseshoe, all 
superstition, you say, arose through induction. 

On the other hand, the moment we arrive at a general 
notion, we proceed to apply it. Thus the child who 
has concluded that bees are dangerous avoids bees. For 
a similar reason he avoids cattle, avoids disobedience, 
and so on, through deductive reasoning. Everywhere, 
indeed, we find these two processes going on together. 
Either, in fact, is useless without the other ; for a general 
notion that is never applied to the experiences of life is 
useless; and one that has no experience basis, but is 
simply "received" from others, is likewise useless. The 
fact is, without some experience basis, a general notion 
cannot be received ; for as we have already seen, it can 
have no meaning. 

5. The Forms op Instruction 

(Several of the so-called "methods of teaching" have 
come up for necessary treatment in the preceding pages. 
Since we are now to give a systematic treatment of the 
purely formal side of instruction, the methods which 
have already been treated will be but briefly referred to, 
each in its order.) 

All instruction is a process of giving impersonal ex- 



METHODS 237 

periences, and we may give these experiences in either of 
two ways ; namely, (1) we may tell the impersonal ex- 
perience directly, having satisfied ourselves that the child 
has an ample supply of ideas in readiness to give meaning 
to the impersonal experience, or (2) we may develop the 
experience at first hand with the child, and test him 
throughout the process to find whether or not he has 
a stock of ideas sufficient to interpret the impersonal ex- 
perience which we are attempting to give him. The first 
process has been called the telling method ; the second, 
the development method. 

I. The Telling Method 

The telling method, as the name indicates, is the 
method in which the teacher tells the child directly the 
fact to be taught. Thus, if the child does not know the 
multiplication fact 3 times 4 are 12, the teacher may tell 
him the fact outright ; if he does not know how to draw a 
scalene triangle, the teacher may tell him by "showing" 
him ; or if he is unable to spell a word, or to give a date, or 
to give a grammatical form, or to discern the function of 
a physiological organ, the teacher may tell him. If the 
child succeeds in getting the impersonal experience to be 
taught ; that is, if he really has ready the ideas necessary 
to give meaning to the impersonal experience, and actu- 
ally uses them to advantage, then this method may prove 
to be the easiest and the most rapid of methods. But we 



238 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

have already seen that meaning is uncertain and elusive ; 
and though the teacher may tell a fact of experience, it 
may call up no ideas in the child mind, or it may call up a 
group of experiences that give a wrong meaning. 

Principle. — The telling method of teaching is easy and 
rapid, but unreliable. 

In spite of the fact that the telling method is not as 
reliable as we would have it, there are nevertheless multi- 
tudes of facts that must be told. Not every fact can be 
developed ; and even if such were the case, life itself is too 
short to allow the school to develop all the impersonal 
experiences that it would give the child. With a reason- 
able assurance that the right meaning will be forthcoming 
the teacher may and must tell many facts. Whether 
a given fact of experience should be told, or whether it 
should be developed out of the child's experience, is a 
problem that must fall to the teacher's judgment. No 
law can be specific here. The question to be answered by 
the teacher is, which of the two methods is better suited 
to reach the given end under the conditions at hand ? 

Principle. — The problem of determining whether a 
given impersonal experience should be taught by the 
telling method or by the development method must be left 
to the teacher's judgment as to which method is better 
suited to reach the given end under given conditions. 

The Lecture Method. — The use of the telling method in 
giving a more or less extended bit of experience is known 



METHODS 239 

as the lecture method. With students of rather mature 
experience, such as we expect to find in the college, this 
method may succeed. So-called " talks" on topics with 
which students are already more or less familiar may be 
justifiable in the upper grades and in the high school; 
but in the primary school, and indeed throughout the 
elementary school, generally speaking, the immature 
experience of students renders this method very unsafe. 

Principle. — The lecture method is justifiable in dealing 
with students of mature experience in the subject matter 
treated, but unsafe with students of immature experience. 

The Textbook Method. — The textbook may be rea- 
sonably conceived as a written lecture, and the out-and- 
out use of the textbook is thus the telling method. 
Books may be of extreme value ; but as an actual fact 
the value of books is fearfully weakened by the memoriz- 
ing greed. The practice of grinding the textbook into 
memory is perhaps the most unfortunate practice known 
to present-day methods, yet we find it amazingly common 
in our schools. History, geography, grammar, physiol- 
ogy, and so on, are fearfully devitalized by the memory 
greed. As we note elsewhere, it seems to be a law of 
teaching, that memory work is called in whenever and 
wherever a teacher's vision is clouded. If no definite 
value is discerned, then the memory, earthworm-like, 
is set to devouring whatever comes in the way. The 
amazing amount of stuff which forgetfulness has to ex- 



240 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

crete keeps us in a kind of mental B right's disease, and 
cheats us out of our rightful vigor of thinking. Thorn- 
dike offers a law which is fitting here, and which, with 
slight change, we may do well to accept: — 

Principle. — Consider the text a guide to be unslav- 
ishly followed, not an authority to be memorized. 

The Illustrative Method. — The illustrative method, al- 
ready treated in connection with the objective method, is 
commonly used along with the telling method. This prac- 
tice is commendable ; for the illustrative material may be 
made to concrete the ideas, and thus touch experience. 

Principle. — The illustrative method is a worthy ally 
of the telling method, for the reason that an illustration is 
an appeal to relevant experience. 

The fact is, the telling method could be put to far better 
use than it now is, if teachers would break it up with illus- 
trations, in order to render the subject matter more con- 
crete ; that is, rilled with the child's own life experiences. 
Many a good talk and many a good sermon have failed to 
arrive, because too abstract. Again we must note that 
the meaning which a mind reads into an abstract state- 
ment is uncertain ; and it varies with the experience of 
the hearer. If we would make sure that the intended 
meaning is present, the concrete is our hope. The 
teacher's daily reminder should be, not " Master, remem- 
ber the Athenians," but — 

" Concrete ! Concrete ! Concrete ! " 



METHODS 24I 

Principle. — Preaching or good talk in the abstract is 
of doubtful value ; it is the concrete that knits a fact into 
life experience. 

II. The Development Method 

Quite independently of persons at hand to tell an indi- 
vidual some given fact of experience, that individual 
may proceed as best he can to construct his own method, 
and thus make his own experience. Or, with some guid- 
ance from others, an individual may proceed and extend 
his experience. Either of these plans of procedure 
represent the laboratory method already treated in con- 
nection with the objective method. The laboratory 
method derives its name from the fact that it is the 
method commonly used in laboratories. In such pro- 
cedures, it is to be noted that the individual feels the need 
of some bit of experience, and his problem is to find or 
make that experience. He gathers together whatever 
material he feels is suited to his purpose, and then pro- 
ceeds either "hit or miss," or else by setting up one 
hypothesis after another and working until they are 
established or broken down. 

The advantages of the development method are quite 
evident. An individual who has found his own method of 
deriving the area of a triangle or circle or trapezium, 
or who has made his own multiplication table or history 
outline or rule or definition, stands at once in the following 



242 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

advantageous positions : (i) he is learning the valuable 
lesson of self-reliance and independence, (2) he knows 
how to use the subject matter, because he created it, and 
he can change it to suit new purposes; (3) the subject 
matter is well rooted in memory, for he has thought it 
out of his own experience ; and even if lost, he can re- 
create it. 

On the other hand, the developing method is slow, and 
often tedious and wasteful. Especially is this true when 
no guidance is given. Life is actually too short to get 
more than a fraction of the course of study in this way. 
Then, too, any fact reached by this method must be 
checked up by a wide experience, otherwise it is not safe 
from error. By way of summary, then, we may lay down 
the following : — 

Principle. — The development method is a reliable 
method of teaching, but it is too slow to be of universal 
use. 

The effort to assist the child in using the development 
method easily goes wide of the mark. If too little as- 
sistance is given, then the child's time and efforts are 
easily wasted; yet too much assistance is perhaps the 
more common weakness. In her solicitude that no time 
be lost, the teacher readily directs questions toward every 
little step; and so we very commonly find what has 
been called " spoon feeding." We shall later, in treating 
methods of controlling will, lay down a principle for guid- 



METHODS 243 

ing the teacher in giving assistance ; and the reference to 
it at this time is significant. 

The Forms of Development 

The two types of reasoning have given their names to 
two time-honored methods of teaching; namely, induction 
and deduction. The fact that the psychologist discerns 
that we cannot sharply separate inductive and deductive 
processes of reasoning is not to alarm the teacher. It is 
true that there is no such mental process as pure induction, 
neither pure deduction. It makes no difference whether 
it is the first or fifth or fiftieth swan which an individual 
sees, he views it in the light of general notions of some 
kind already formed from other experiences; otherwise 
the swan could have no meaning to his mind. In the 
deepest process of induction, then, deduction enters at 
every point ; and since we want every experience inter- 
preted in the light of unified previous experience, we do 
not want pure induction, even if it were possible. 

On the other hand, a man may have seen either few 
or many swans, yet the next one he sees will have 
something to do in the way of strengthening or of 
limiting his general notion ; that is, it will unify in some 
degree with previous swan experiences. Thus induction 
is present in the most profound case of deduction. Since 
the fundamental law of mind is unity, we do not want this 
changed, even if possible. 



244 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

Induction and deduction are ever coexistent processes, 
then, and we cannot have one without the other ; yet the 
fact that the teacher starts out with a group of individual 
experiences from which she purposes to lead her students 
to derive a general notion, is sufficient reason for naming 
her method induction. So, too, the fact that she plans 
a lesson in which the general notions, already formed, 
are to be applied to new experiences, is adequate ground 
for naming her method deduction. Thus it is that these 
terms continue to be used in the theory of teaching; 
and there is no valid reason to hope for their disappear- 
ance. 

A. The Inductive Method 

We may do well first to present the inductive method 
in concrete. — Suppose a sixth-grade teacher wishes to 
derive a convenient rule for squaring two-place numbers. 
An inductive procedure would move somewhat as follows: 

i. Preparation. — A motive is the first thing needed; 
and the teacher may set out by trying her class on the 
usual multiplying-out method of squaring numbers, say, 
on 67 and 86. After suggesting that this method is 
rather too heavy to be rapid in handling the ever-recur- 
ring two-place numbers (thus revealing need), the teacher 
may at once set the definite problem by the motivating 
appeal: — 

"I wonder if we can't readily discover an easier method 
of squaring two-place numbers." 



METHODS 245 

2. Presentation. — The teacher writes on the board the 
form 23 2 . Now comes a trial of her skill in using that 
vital instrument of teaching, the question. 

1st question. — How many tens and how many units 
in 23 ? Answer. — Two tens, and three units. 

2d question. — Suppose we take the 3 units away from 
the number 23 ; what the remainder ? Answer. — 20. 

The teacher now writes on the board, — 

23 2 = 20 x 

3d question. — Suppose we now add 3 units to the 
number 23 ; what the sum ? Answer. — 26. 
The board now shows, — 

23 2 = 20 x 26 + 

4th question. — How many units did we take away 
from the number 23 in this instance (pointing to 20) ? 
Answer. — 3. How many did we add to the number 23 
in this instance (pointing to 26) ? Answer. — 3. 

The teacher writes as she proceeds, and the board now 
shows, — 

23 2 = 20 x 26 + 3 x 3 

5th question. — If we now multiply the 20 by the 26, 
then add 3 times 3, what the result ? Answer. — 529. 
The board now shows, — 



23 2 = 20 x 26 + 3 x 3 = 529. 
The teacher now directs the class to square 23 by the 



246 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

multiplying-out method, and then, pointing to the board, 
asks the — 

6th question. — Is our answer 529 right or wrong ? 
Answer. — Right. 

We now have one individual case of squaring numbers 
by the short method; but it will take several others 
before the rule can be derived. The teacher therefore 
proceeds, questioning each case through as before, until 
the board shows something as follows : — 



2y = 20 x 26 + 3 x 3 = 529. 
3 l2 = 30 x 32 + 1 x 1 = 961. 
42 2 = 40x44 + 2 x 2= 1764. 
55 2 = 50 x 60 + 5x5 = 3025. 
6f = 60 x 74 + 7 x 7 = 4489. 
86 2 = 80 x 92 + 6x6 = 7396. 

3. Comparison. — These six individual notions of 
squaring numbers are probably deemed sufficient; and 
the teacher proceeds to question and point through each 
case in comparison, as follows : — 

How many tens in 23 ? Answer. — 2. How many 
units ? A nswer. - — 3 . How did we get the 20 ? A nswer. 
— We took away 3 from the 23. How did we get the 
26? Answer. — We added 3 to the 23. What is the 
product of 20 and 26 ? Answer. — 520. What does 
the first 3 represent? Answer. — The 3 which we took 
away from the number 23. What does the second 



METHODS 247 

3 represent? Answer. — The number we added to the 
number 23. What is their product? Answer. — 9. 
What is the sum of 520 and 9 ? Answer. — 529. 

Each case is followed through in this way, for the pur- 
pose of discovering the unity of processes. 

4. Generalization. — The questioning through the indi- 
vidual cases must be continued till the unity of the pro- 
cesses is discovered. The teacher then asks, "Who can 
tell me how to square any two-place number?" Ample 
time is now allowed for all to get the unity of processes 
into form for statement ; then some one of the doubtful 
students is called upon for his statement. If he is 
m error, his statement will probably reveal whether 
he has failed to discover the unity, or whether his 
failure is in language. If the former, he is directed 
back to the individual cases. If the latter, then the 
teacher must judge whether the statement shall be 
criticized, or whether another student is to be called 
on for his statement. After several statements have 
been given, the best statement is chosen, either by 
the teacher or by vote of the class; and with slight 
changes in wording, perhaps, the rule is finally written as 
follows : — 

Rule for squaring Two-place Numbers. — "To square a 
two-place number, multiply the number minus the units 
by the number plus the units, and add the square of the 



248 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

5. Application. — The rule is at once applied to several 
numbers, such as 22, 43, 83, 97, to make sure of ability to 
handle the rule as stated ; then it is carried over into some 
real life problems. To illustrate, — "Your next flower 
bed is to be made 24 feet square, with one plant to the 
square foot. How many plants will you need ?" Text- 
book assignment may be made to give further application, 
or the teacher may proceed to show that the new process 
of squaring numbers is reducible to the familiar multiply- 
ing-out process. 

It is at once evident that up to and including the state- 
ment of the general notion, or rule, the movement of 
mind here is from the individual notions of squaring num- 
bers to the general notion. This is the explicit process, 
hence we may call it induction; and we may call the 
method used inductive. The application of the rule is 
clearly deduction. 

The Formal Steps of Induction 
The Herbartians have long insisted that the inductive 
method (rather the inductive-deductive method, since the 
application of the general notion is deduction) moves 
through a form which reveals five steps. These steps have 
been marked in the lesson given, and they are in order: — 

1. Preparation 3. Comparison 

2. Presentation 4. Generalization 

5. Application 



METHODS 249 

The first step is called preparation, for the reason that 
the teacher here aims to prepare the child mind to receive 
the new experience (1) by calling up whatever ideas are 
needed to give meaning to the impersonal experience 
about to be presented, and (2) by revealing to the child 
the problem (the so-called "aim" of the lesson) at hand. 
It is in this step that the motive must be set to work. 
We have seen that every lesson must have its motive; 
and no suitable motive can be set until the child discerns 
what his need is, hence what the problem is at which he is 
to work. 

Principle. — Every lesson must reveal a problem to the 
child before he can find a motive. 

No teacher should believe that she must always have 
a formal statement of a so-called "lesson aim." We 
simply want the child to see his problem. If a mere 
statement of "aim" will reveal the problem, then we may 
have the aim stated; but we are not to rely on this 
formal procedure. Neither should any teacher believe 
that she must call up in the preparatory step all of the 
ideas needed to interpret the lesson all the way through. 
We must have sufficient ideas in readiness at any step to 
keep the process moving intelligently, and other ideas 
may be brought in as needed. A mere review of the 
previous lesson may call up ideas enough to start with; 
but here again the teacher's judgment must determine. 

The second step is called presentation, for the reason 



250 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

that it is here that the material, the facts, or individual 
notions are presented. The lesson we have already given 
is intended to show how carefully the teacher should pro- 
ceed in handling the individual notions, so as to bring 
out the essentials, the elements common to all of them ; 
for it is the group of common elements which is to become 
the generalization. All definitions are generalizations; 
hence our principles governing the handling of the defin- 
ing processes are applicable here. We may again accept 
Thorndike's lead: — 

Principle. — The crucial point in inductive teaching is 
the selection and handling of individual facts so as to re- 
veal the common elements that are to constitute the gen- 
eral notion. 

Caution should here be given that an order of presenta- 
tion which is perfectly clear to an adult mind may be 
unsuited to the child mind. The logical arrangement of 
subject matter is one thing; the psychological arrange- 
ment may be quite another thing. It would be perfectly 
logical to begin history study with the earliest of ancient 
history, and proceed chronologically down to the present 
time; yet for a child this would be impossible, for he 
must have an experience basis to begin with, and this he 
can get only from contact with his own environment. 
The child mind simply cannot get history by a strictly 
chronological (time-logical) arrangement, hence such an 
arrangement is not psychological to the child; that is, 



METHODS 251 

not arranged to fit the child mind. So, too, it would be 
perfectly logical to begin the study of geography with the 
world whole, the globe, proceeding in an orderly way 
down through the continents to state, county, and finally 
to the home ; but since the child experience is not suffi- 
cient to enable him to comprehend the globe at the 
start, such a procedure would not be psychological to the 
child; that is, not suited to his mind. In the given 
lesson it would have been logical to have given the num- 
bers in the order, 29, 38, 46, 52, etc., but since 29 would be 
hard for the child to begin with, this presentation would 
not have been psychological. The logical arrangement 
means, essentially, the way an adult mind would think 
subject matter. The logical arrangement is therefore 
likely to be psychological to the adult ; but if the child 
mind is unable to think things that way, then the arrange- 
ment, though logical, is not psychological to the child. 

Principle. — The logical presentation of subject matter 
is acceptable, so long as it is psychological. 

The third step is called comparison, for the reason that 
the individual facts are here compared for the purpose of 
finding the common elements which are to become the 
generalization. It must not be assumed that this step is 
to be sharply separated either from the one preceding or 
from the one following. The unifying activity of mind 
is at work the moment two individual notions are handled, 
and it continues until the unity, the generalization, is fully 



252 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

established. Sometimes the student will have his gener- 
alization isolated even before the presentation is completed. 
In other cases, the individual facts will have to be gone 
over with the greatest care, in the effort to isolate the 
common elements. The latter is true of the lesson given. 
Common elements are isolated in accordance with the 
law of varying concomitants ; and just how many indi- 
vidual facts are needed in the presentation and compari- 
son must be left to the teacher's judgment. A little 
experience here will enable the teacher to discern, with a 
fair degree of certainty, when the children have had a suffi- 
cient number of individual facts ; but if the lesson is to be 
a development lesson, and not actually a telling lesson, 
the teacher must not allow a quick child to state the gener- 
alization before the slower ones have reached it. 

The fourth step is called generalization, for the reason 
that here the common, or general, elements that have been 
isolated by comparison are unified in a statement ap- 
propriately called the generalization. This general state- 
ment covers all the individuals examined. The generali- 
zation may be a principle or a rule or a definition. As 
we have already seen, the teacher must allow reasonable 
time for all the members of the class to get the generaliza- 
tion, before any one is allowed to state it, if the ad- 
vantages of the development lesson are to be secured. 
It has already been pointed out that a generalization 
should be first stated in the child's own language, thus 



METHODS 253 

making sure that he has it ; but later it may be reduced 
to a more suitable form that means the same thing to the 
child. The practice of having several students give 
statements, and then choosing the best one, to be re- 
molded if necessary, is commendable. 

The fifth step is called application, for the reason that 
here the general notion which has been reached is applied 
to other individuals, in the hope of fixing the ability to 
use the newly acquired possession. The individual facts 
selected for the step presentation are usually selected on 
the basis of clearness in revealing the common elements ; 
but in the step application, the effort should be rather 
to get the general notion knit into the varied experiences 
of life. It is the teacher who knows the lives of her 
children who can show her prowess here. Not every 
problem that will lay hold of the life of the rural child will 
do for the city child, and not every problem that interests 
the boy will interest the girl, and so on ; yet we must have 
problems that touch intimately the lives of the children. 

It must be conceded that the inductive method is 
slow, though it reveals, in vital ways, the values which we 
attributed to the development method. Perhaps we 
may lay down a principle for induction that will give a 
little more definite guidance for this form of development 
than we have yet given. Since the method is genuinely 
educative, yet slow, it is evident that only the most im- 
portant general notions should be reached through the 



254 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

inductive method. But the teacher will also find some 
very important general notions, such as the conception of 
the earth's rotation, the molecular theory, and so on, 
that are too difficult to derive out of the child's limited 
experience. The inductive method should not be at- 
tempted, therefore, in teaching them; but the telling 
method, reenforced by such experience as may be at hand, 
is advisable. So, too, a rule or a definition that counts 
only for the time being should be told. Stated positively 
rather than negatively: — 

Principle. — Those principles, rules, and definitions 
which can be reasonably derived through the child's 
limited experience, and which are highly significant, 
should be taught by induction. 

The Lesson Assignment 

The step application readily suggests the lesson assign- 
ment, since the assignment is commonly the continued 
application of general notions reached in the class. If 
the assignment is prepared for by the development of 
general notions in the class, then the mere designation of 
the work is sufficient, unless some difficulties are in sight. 
If trouble is foreseen, the teacher must prepare the child 
for it by giving him such assistance as appears reasonable. 

Sometimes, however, new problems are to be raised for 
the assignment. If so, the teacher must satisfy her judg- 
ment that the means of solution are within reasonable 



METHODS 255 

command of the class. Guiding questions may be raised, 
or references given, or both. The fact is, the assignment 
may require more time than the recitation ; and whatever 
time and assistance are deemed needed should be given. 
In any case, a careful estimate of the time and the assist- 
ance needed to work out an assignment economically 
is mandatory; for we now have tremendous waste in 
unguided efforts at study. 

Principle. — The lesson assignment should be made 
with careful estimate of the time and the assistance 
needed to work it out economically. 

The great waste still evident in study, and due to the 
lack of intelligent assignment, is in turn due partly to the 
child's lack of motive, partly to poor reference materials, 
partly to lack of definite problems, partly to the fact that 
many children do not know how to study ; yet we cannot 
get away from the fact that this loss is mainly and pain- 
fully due to the fact that our teachers do not clearly see 
the values that are to be reached, and so the children do 
not find them. When we have risen above the notion 
that the history text is to be committed in bits and re- 
cited, that the Constitution is to be memorized, that gram- 
mar is to be studied by committing and applying defini- 
tions and rules, that literature study is the committing 
and the dissecting of masterpieces to the end of " incul- 
cating a love of good literature," that spelling is the 
memorizing of letter aggregations of words found in the 



256 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

spelling book, and so on, we shall then be in a position to 
make better assignments of work. 

B. The Deductive Method 

We have already seen that deduction is the application 
of general notions to the specific problems of life. We 
should now see how this application is effected, the 
method of the process ; and following our law that experi- 
ence is the only teacher, we shall first see the method 
in the concrete. Logic has supplied us with the time- 
honored illustration of deductive reasoning, which is 
easily competent to give us our first glimpse of deductive 
method. 

Problem. — Is Socrates a god or a mortal being ? 

Solution. — Major premise: Man is mortal. 

Minor premise: Socrates is a man. 
Conclusion: Socrates is mortal. 

The major premise of logic is the general notion with 
which we have been dealing ; and the minor premise is 
the individual notion. The solution of the problem is 
found by unifying the two premises and thus reaching the 
conclusion. This unification is the old trait of mind 
which we have seen all along; and as usual it comes about 
through the common element. In this case the common 
element of the two premises is expressed by the word 
"man." If we hold that man is mortal, and then concede 
that Socrates is a man, then comes the unification, 



METHODS 257 

Socrates is mortal. The three steps of the process, 
taken together, are called in logic the syllogism. 

Suppose we now shake off this antiquated problem of 
the Greeks, and apply the syllogistic solution to a present- 
day problem. Geometry is said to be our typically de- 
ductive science ; we may try our case there. 

Deduction in Geometry 

Problem. — "If two straight lines intersect, the vertical 
angles are equal." It should be noted that this state- 
ment represents a general notion, meaningless until ex- 
perience puts it in the concrete. Here is our concrete. 

Av yC 




D 

Given. — Two straight lines AB and CD, intersecting 
in point O. 

To prove. — The vertical angles AOC and DOB, also 
AOD and COB, equal. 
Solution. — 

Syllogism I. — Major premise: All straight angles 
are equal. 
Minor premise: Angle AOC 4- COB, 
and angle COB + BOD are straight 
angles. 



258 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

Conclusion: Angle AOC + COB = 
angle COB + BOD, (1) 

Syllogism 1 1. — Major premise: If the same or equal 
things be subtracted from the same 
or equal things, the remainders will 
be equal. 
Minor premise: Angle AOC 4- COB 
= angle COB + BOD. (1) 

Angle COB is common. 
Conclusion: Angle A OC = angle BOD. 
Q.E.D. 
In a similar way it may be proved that angle COB is 
equal to angle AOD. 

Deduction in Arithmetic 

Suppose we now apply our deductive method to a prob- 
lem in arithmetic. 

Problem. — If 12 yards of gingham cost $1.50, what 
will 10 yards cost ? 
Solution. — 

Syllogism I. — Major premise: One yard of cloth 
costs iV as much as 12 yards. 
Minor premise: 12 yards of gingham 

cost $1.50. 
Conclusion: 1 yard of gingham costs 
12 J cents. (1) 



METHODS 259 

Syllogism II. — Major premise: 10 yards of cloth 

cost 10 times as much as 1 yard. 

Minor premise: 1 yard of gingham 

costs i2i cents. (1) 

Conclusion: 10 yards of gingham 
cost $1.25. 

The next step in this problem is the checking up of the 
conclusion with experience. In this problem this may 
mean nothing more than the comparison of $1.50 for 12 
yards with $1.25 for 10 yards. If the two compare favor- 
ably, the mind is satisfied ; for the conclusion unifies with 
experience, and so the fundamental law of mind is satis- 
fied. 

In the usual work of geometry and of arithmetic, we do 
not see the syllogistic steps so clearly revealed ; yet the 
mind proceeds this way, and if a full record of the mind's 
process were recorded, it would stand as indicated in the 
two processes just shown. Written work is usually an 
abbreviation of mind processes. 

A little investigation of the two solutions will reveal the 
fact that the crucial point in syllogistic reasoning is the 
finding of the right general notion, or major premise, 
under which the individual fact, or minor premise, is to 
come. The teacher should lead the child to direct his 
search systematically, by teaching him to analyze the in- 
dividual fact so that its essential elements may suggest 
the right general notion. Thus the student of geometry 



260 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

learns to inspect the individual notion, the given inter- 
secting lines in the given solution, and he finds two 
straight angles with an element, angle AOC, in common ; 
and he thus discovers the two principles, the two major 
premises, on which to base his solution. So, too, the child 
in arithmetic analyzes his individual fact, 12 yards cost 
$1.50, and sees the application of the principle for finding 
the cost of 1 yard ; and this in turn leads to the prin- 
ciple for finding the cost of 10 yards. 

Textbooks usually start the student by giving an illus- 
tration or two (as is seen in the analysis of sentences 
in grammar, or in the analysis of problems in arithmetic), 
and trust to the child to catch the idea and proceed. 
Sometimes the textbook suggests the appropriate general 
notion, as is common in mathematics and the other 
sciences. The teacher can and should improve such 
assistance by training the child to systematize his search 
by analysis and synthesis. 

Principle. — The crucial point in deductive teaching is 
the direction of the pupil's search for the right general 
notion, and this is done by training the pupil to systema- 
tize his search by analysis and synthesis. 

We are now in position to discern another principle 
covering both induction and deduction. We are in the 
habit of saying that induction begins with the individual 
and ends with the general. This is not quite true. It 
will be readily seen that when the individual has discov- 



METHODS 26l 

ered the law for squaring numbers, he at once better 
understands the squaring of individual numbers. It is 
for this purpose that the law was derived. So, too, a man 
who has formed a general notion "swan" knows more 
about any individual swan than he did before. No one 
ever met a general swan in his experience. It is always 
a particular swan that we meet ; and it is the particular 
swan that we must know. No one ever met a general 
number to be squared, but always it is a particular num- 
ber that we have to square. So far, then, as any mind 
is concerned in analyzing and comparing and isolating 
common elements, it is for the purpose of better under- 
standing the individuals which are met in experience. A 
mind that has reached a general notion by induction 
could not stop with the general notion if it chose, for all 
the time we are dealing with individuals. First and last, 
then, our induction would know the individual ; and so 
the inductive process really begins and ends with the 
individual. The end of induction is truly an enriched 
individual. 

We are likewise in the habit of saying that deduction 
begins with the general and ends with the individual. 
This, too, is not quite true to experience. A man meets a 
given bird, reads into it his relevant general notion, and 
says, "This is a swan." He meets an individual problem 
in mathematics, applies his rules, his generalizations, and 
ends with a solution of the particular problem. He 



262 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

meets an individual act, applies to it his general notion 
of right and wrong, and names the act accordingly. He 
awakes any particular morning, never a general morning, 
looks at his timepiece, and finds that it is his rising time, 
and acts accordingly. Thus it happens that we never 
actually begin with general notions anywhere in ex- 
perience, but an individual is always the starting point 
of any thinking process; hence deduction, as well as 
induction, both begins and ends in the individual. That 
is, experience is derived from individual and specific sense 
contacts with the world about us, and all our thinking and 
reasoning about those contacts is for the purpose of guid- 
ing us in future specific contacts. Life problems are 
concrete, and all our knowledge is knowledge of indi- 
viduals. 

Principles. — Both induction and deduction begin and 
end in the individual, and all knowledge is knowledge of 
the individual. 

Up to this point in dealing with the development 
method, we have proceeded as if all development were 
either inductive or deductive. It is true that if the teacher 
plans a lesson to deal with individual facts, for the purpose 
of arriving at a general notion, the movement which she 
has in mind we may call induction ; and when she plans 
to apply the general notions already acquired to further 
facts of experience, the movement is what we have called 
deduction. Now it is not every development lesson that 



METHODS 263 

is planned with the explicit purpose either to bring out or 
to apply a general notion. If not, then the movement 
is explicitly neither induction nor deduction. Caution is 
here given that we are dealing with the development 
method, and not with the telling method. Since all 
conventional symbols, such as the alphabet, figures, and 
arbitrary signs in general, cannot be developed, they 
must be taught by the telling method. So, too, the mere 
facts of history, as well as the facts of literature, must be 
taught by some form of the telling method. But since 
no isolated fact can mean anything in itself, but must 
have meaning given to it out of the mind's past experi- 
ence, all teaching implies induction and deduction at 
every step. 

While we must concede that all knowledge is the unity 
of the individual and the general, of fact and meaning, 
there is much development teaching in which the teacher 
is not expressly trying either to reach or to apply general 
notions. History, unfortunately, is commonly taught in 
this way ; and so with literature ; that is, most teachers 
of history and of literature are not clearly engaged in try- 
ing to reach the great truths of history and of literature, 
but their teaching only implies that they hope that in 
some undefined way the students are reaching them. 
Such methods of teaching always closely ally themselves 
with the telling method ; and since they show relatively 
little definiteness of form, but waver back and forth be- 



264 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

tween telling and developing, perhaps Mr. Charters, in 
his progressive little book, " Methods of Teaching/' is 
justified in branding such procedures the "Informal 
Method." 

C. Questioning 

The most efficient tool of the development method is the 
question, hence the extreme value of the art of question- 
ing. We have all seen the development method wander 
from its direct purpose, through irrelevant questions 
either from the teacher or from the students. It is a 
matter of no small importance, therefore, to know what 
constitutes a relevant question. 

We have already noted that every lesson must deal 
with a problem which is known both to teacher and to stu- 
dents. No person works well unless he understands what 
his problem is. If we do not know what we are work- 
ing for, our work cannot be intelligent ; it is drudgery. 
If we do know our problem, then any question which 
points to its solution is relevant ; and any question which 
does not point to its solution is irrelevant. 

Principle. — The relevancy or irrelevancy of a question 
is determined by referring it to the lesson problem. 

If the child asks a question that appears to be irrelevant, 
the teacher should at once ask, "What does this have to 
do with the lesson problem ? " It is unsafe to jump at the 
conclusion that a question is irrelevant ; for children do 



METHODS 265 

not think as logically as teachers generally do, and the 
child may be able to show that his question which appears 
irrelevant is, in reality, quite relevant. 

In framing questions, the teacher must see that they 
are clear ; that is, that the children can see through the 
questions and readily discern their meaning. Strange 
words or strange orders of words confuse any mind ; and 
we teachers are all guilty, and often guilty, here. "Who 
can isolate the generalization?" is probably not a clear 
question for a fifth-grade arithmetic class; but " Who can 
state the rule?" is probably clear. So, too, the shorter 
the question, the more readily, other things equal, a mind 
can grasp it. Long sentences, especially if loose, puzzle 
all of us. Again, the question that is ambiguous is not 
good. The question should point toward a definite 
answer. "What do you see ?" is a very indefinite ques- 
tion to be aimed at bringing out the statement of 
a generalization ; yet we often hear it. Finally, a ques- 
tion should require definite thought to answer. Ques- 
tions which suggest the answer, and hence are called 
"leading questions"; questions that foster guessing; 
and questions that can be answered by "yes" or 
"no" with little thought, are not reliable tools of edu- 
cation. 

Principle. — Questions should be clear, concise, and 
definite, and require a distinct mental effort leading to 
the answer. 



266 principles of education 

6. Methods of Training the Will 

We have already seen that the child is born with a rich 
supply of impulses, and that these impulses are bound 
to discharge unless inhibited. Our purpose now is to see 
how these impulses are to be controlled to the end of 
realizing the values of life. 

To begin with, the impulse is the will of the child. 
In other words, impulse is primitive will. Since the child 
is born with his stock of impulses, education cannot get 
back of them, but must accept them. All will-training, 
therefore, must start with the impulse. 

Principle. — The beginning point of all will- training is 
the impulse. 

We have also seen (i) that any impulse is ready to go 
out toward any object that promises to satisfy it ; (2) that 
any object that does promise satisfaction to the impulse 
is felt to be useful, and hence it is interesting ; and (3) 
that attention always chooses the most interesting object. 
It is therefore evident that the teacher does not have to 
create attention, but that her work is that of directing it, 
through interest. 

Principle. — Attention is not something which the 
teacher must create, but a force which she must direct, 
through interest. 

The impulses of the child must discharge before the 
child can come into active contact with the world and 



METHODS 267 

thus get experience. It is in this light that the teacher 
must view the multitudinous little impulsions of the 
child, if she would understand her problem of will-train- 
ing. When an impulse has discharged, or, better still, 
after it has discharged frequently, the child knows some- 
thing of what the impulse means. Thus with the 
whole multitude of impulses discharging, the child ac- 
quires from experience a stock of ideas which guide him in 
controlling his impulses. When he has come to know the 
meaning of his impulses, and experience has given him 
control of his voluntary muscles, he may control his 
impulses. Experience, again, is the only teacher. 

Principle. — The intellectual side of will-training, or 
discipline, consists in acquiring a stock of ideas with 
which to control the impulses. 

We all know from experience how easy it is for an im- 
pulse to discharge " before we think" ; that is, before we 
have viewed the pending act in the light of past experi- 
ence. So, too, we all know that impulsive conduct is not 
trustworthy, and that conduct is reliable in the degree 
that impulse is guided by an adequate past experience. 
The lesson to be learned by every one is, therefore, that of 
holding the impulses in check until they can be viewed 
in the light of past experience. Such a will is the mature, 
the developed will. 

Principle. — The higher will is impulse guided and 
controlled by the stock of ideas gained from experience. 



268 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

In order that the individual may will to realize the 
values of life, the ends that are good for every one, 
rather than his own selfish motives, we must train his 
emotions. He must be interested in the values of life. 
This is only another way of saying that he must see and 
feel the usefulness of the values of life. Biology gives 
us a far-reaching law that governs here : — 

Principle. — A given individual or species gives to 
other individuals or species as much aid as is necessary 
to enable the given individual or species to accomplish its 
own ends. 

We may now call upon experience to teach us just what 
this law means. 

The peony secretes the brown fluid, found on its bud, 
for the purpose of attracting the ant. The ant appropri- 
ates the fluid, and in return acts as a bodyguard for the 
plant against offensive insects. Flowers secrete nectar; 
not to feed the bee, but to induce the bee to carry pollen. 
The fruit tree surrounds its seeds with fleshy food; 
not to feed animals, but to induce animals to carry away 
and disseminate the embittered or stony-covered seed 
within the fruit. The ant cares for the corn root louse ; 
not for the sake of the louse, but for the food which the 
well-cared-for louse gives the ant in return. 

Nature has unified infrahuman life through the baser 
instincts ; but for man, who is made in the image of his 
Creator, it is reserved to push on to a higher unity through 



METHODS 269 

reason. We have seen that the fundamental law of mind 
is unity, and that the ultimate problem of the human 
intellect is to think the world into the ultimate unity, the 
universe. An enduring world must be a world of unity. 
A world of disharmony cannot endure ; for disharmony 
means strife, and strife is destructive. If, therefore, we 
are to have a world, a universe, we must believe in unity, 
must will a universe. 

We recognize as reasonable only those individuals 
who are willing to share our interests; for no man can 
live unto himself. Whoever wills a universe, therefore, 
must will whatever is good for every one ; and he must 
refuse to will what is not good for every one. Such a will, 
as we have seen, is the moral will. We all believe that 
morality is good for every one, and that an immoral act is 
bad for every one, including the doer. The thief, the liar, 
the robber, indeed the doer of any immoral act, cannot be 
happy, for the reason that his act violates the deepest 
law of his mind; namely, unity. Sooner or later his 
deepest will must cry out against the immoral act, must 
refuse to own it; that is, his "conscience must trouble 
him.' , Perhaps he will self -reveal to the world his own 
immoral deed, and beg for the world's punishment to 
undo his deed according to the algebraic law that "a nega- 
tive by a negative gives a positive." 

Thus the biological law of assistance holds for every one, 
and the principle of give and take must hold. We must 



270 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

teach the child so that he may clearly see in time that the 
best world for him is the world that is best for every one. 
Any act that tends to make a better world is therefore 
useful to him, as well as to all ; and such an act must in- 
terest him when he discerns it in this light. It is in this 
way that the emotion is to be trained to realize the moral 
will. The road to other lives must pass through the self ; 
otherwise there could be no sympathy, no " feeling with 
a self." Religion is right when it commands us, "Thou 
shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Ethics, too, is 
right when it accepts this command, but puts the em- 
phasis on "thy neighbor." Selfishness hardly needs em- 
phasis, even in this day. All higher thought demands the 
complete surrender of the personal interests to what is 
regarded as of universal interest. The question which the 
teaching profession earnestly asks is, "How is such a sur- 
render to be brought about?" Philosophy tells us only 
that this is the end to be reached ; it leaves the method to 
another science; namely, pedagogy. Our next step is 
therefore evident. 

The surrender of the personal interests to the universal 
interests can never be realized by taking the child out of 
himself. It is not self-abnegation that we want, but 
unity ; that is, we must teach the child to discern that 
only that which is good for every one is ultimately good for 
himself. When he has actually discerned the value, the 
use of the moral life, he can be interested in morality. 



METHODS 271 

We have seen that the most natively interesting thing to a 
man is his own personal self, and our problem here is to 
enable the child to clearly see that his own highest inter- 
ests are identical with the highest interests of all. 

Principle. — The emotional side of will-training, or dis- 
cipline, consists in developing interest in morality, by 
leading the child to see that his own highest interests are 
identical with those of the race. 

Since the development of the moral will is a matter of 
extreme importance, the method employed should be 
inductive. We can afford to take no chances in this vital 
matter. We have already pointed out how the school 
games can be utilized in developing the moral will, but 
the process must not stop there. The schoolroom and 
the school grounds are teeming with concrete material for 
moral teaching. There is no school child who has not 
felt the inner pangs of wrong doing, nor is there one who 
has not felt the happiness of right doing. These experi- 
ences are to be seized, and their significance revealed. 
Thus we are to lay a genuine experience basis for moral 
training. 

After a real experience basis has been laid, we can ex- 
tend our teaching in time and place. The community 
is full of concrete material, and history and literature can 
widen almost to infinity. The vital point is the experi- 
ence basis, let us repeat; and what a pity to take up 
history and literature, until this basis has been well es- 



272 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

tablished. This work must be real and candid and 
sincere. There must be nothing to savor of moral plati- 
tudes, of nagging, of faultfinding, of threatening, of 
"goody-goody." We have all seen the weakness of such 
measures. Just in the degree that the child is led to see 
and feel the relation of his conduct to his own inner free- 
dom is the teaching of morals effective. 

It is evident that conduct can never be reliable if it is 
impulsive ; hence the individual must learn to hold the 
impulses in check until they have been viewed in the light 
of past experience. This is only another way of saying 
that the individual must voluntarily attend to his im- 
pulses. In no other way can his acts be other than 
impulsive. Voluntary attention is therefore the very 
threshold of morality. 

Principle. — The threshold of morality is voluntary 
attention. 

The power of voluntary attention is therefore to be 
strengthened by exercise. There is no conflict between 
the highest interest and voluntary attention. We want 
the individual to attend to whatever is of the highest 
value, hence of the highest interest to him. Our difficulty 
is, some little attractive thing catches our attention, and 
our impulses are at work upon it ; while the more signifi- 
cant thing is excluded. The habit of scanning our im- 
pulses, of holding them back voluntarily until the highest 
interest can be decided upon, is therefore of the highest 



METHODS 273 

importance. This habit, like all habits, is to be estab- 
lished according to the law of habit formation. Since 
this law will be readily appreciated, it may be stated 
directly and then illustrated. 

Principle (Law of Habit Formation). — (1) Arouse 
a strong impulse to do the chosen act by viewing it in 
terms of the deepest will, the ideal ; (2) allow this impulse 
to discharge at the first opportunity, and as often there- 
after as possible ; (3) allow no exceptions to occur. 

To illustrate, we may suppose the teacher or parent 
wishes to establish in the child the habit of telling the 
truth. The first step is to get the child to discern that 
truth telling is for his own highest good, as well as for the 
highest good of others. The second step is to discharge 
this resolution, this deepest will, while the impulse is hot 
to do so, and to continue to let it discharge at every op- 
portunity. The third step is to see to it that no excep- 
tions occur ; for every exception registers its influence in 
counteracting the new habit. 

In breaking a bad habit, substitution is far better than 
repression. The world is full of examples of failures in 
attempts to take away an end toward which an impulse 
drives, and leave the impulse with nothing to work on. 
Now, nowhere in the world of experience can we take 
something out, and leave nothing in ; and a vacuum of 
conduct is neither possible nor desirable. No impulse is 
bad at root, and we do not want to kill off our impulses, 

T 



274 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

even if we could. The impulse to lie is, at root, the im- 
pulse to be free, the impulse of independence ; and this 
we would not kill. The impulse here has simply gone out 
to a bad end ; a mistaken notion has misled it. Our busi- 
ness is therefore to give the impulse a better end to go out 
to ; namely, real freedom through truth telling. Truth 
is unity, freedom ; for it fits in anywhere. So, too, though 
a man drinks intoxicants, we would not kill the impulse 
to drink ; but we should give the man a more enlightened 
drink. Again, we are not to try to kill off the fighting 
impulse ; but we want the fighting impulse to discharge 
in noble ways, rather than through the fist. 

Principle. — Bad habits are to be inhibited by substi- 
tution, rather than by repression. 

It is pleasing to note how some of our more enlightened 
communities are routing the saloon. Studying the saloon 
attractions, these people find that the motives to have a 
warm room, an agreeable evening with company, and so 
on, lead many a poor boy into the saloon. They there- 
fore set up a clubroom alongside the saloon, and fill it 
with the comforts of a winter's evening, with the intoxi- 
cants left out. This is substitution ; and the plan is a 
magnificent step in the right direction. 

In school, as elsewhere, it often happens that a mere 
suggestion leads to reform. Humanity is not normally 
depraved ; and supplying a right idea may often set things 
right. Thus if a child is inclined to grumble over his 



METHODS 275 

work, the teacher may approach him and frankly ask, 
"Is this the Miller of the Dee?" It may be that this 
attractive idea suddenly appearing here to the child mind 
will bring a new motive. Suggestion is ever at work in 
the schoolroom as elsewhere, and the following terse 
statement of its law we may accept here: — 

Principle (Law of Suggestion). — Every idea is 
attended by an impulse that will discharge it unless 
inhibited. 

This law acts quite as readily in a negative as in a posi- 
tive way. Thus the father who tells his son how he used 
to cause trouble in school may stir up troubles enough in 
the mind of his son, who had perhaps not thought of them 
before. The teacher who lays down a school rule is very 
likely to find some boy who is anxious to test what in 
higher circles would be called its "constitutionality." 
Children are far more susceptible to suggestion than 
adults, and girls more than boys; but suggestion is an in- 
dispensable factor in all mental life. Tears readily bring 
tears, and joy is really contagious; indeed, the association 
of an idea of any movement, with the muscles that exe- 
cute that movement, is most intimate. In short, the idea 
is the conscious counterpart of a nerve current already on 
the way to cause the movement; and it will cause it 
unless inhibited. 

The fact that teachers are so much engaged with the 
task of school management readily leads them to depreci- 



276 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

ate the child that is "full of impulses/' and to appreciate 
the one who can "sit still and behave. " We have already 
seen that without impulses to do things, there could be no 
education. This is only a better way of stating the old 
law that "self-activity is the basis of all learning. ,, A 
teacher could not get a purchase on a child without im- 
pulses ; and the more impulses, the more handles. Even 
if an impulse gives now a bad reaction, it is better than no 
reaction at all, for the teacher may substitute a good end 
for the bad one ; while if there were no impulse at all, 
no end could be reached. However much a man may 
wish his horse to drink, he must wait for the impulse. 
Thus it is evident that the following law, partly from 
James and partly from Thorndike, is true : — 

Principle. — Some reaction, even if not good, is better 
than no reaction; and ability in discipline must be 
measured by the sum of positive well-doing, rather than 
by the absence of bad behavior. 

The weakness of the child's will is revealed by the easy 
shifting of the attention from one thing to another. As the 
growing child gains control over his impulses, his ability 
to attend voluntarily will be found to increase with his 
control ; for the one ability means the other ; that is, — 

Principle. — The strength of will is shown by the 
amount of voluntary attention that the individual is able 
to command. 

It is of the highest importance that the teacher 



METHODS 277 

strengthen the wills of her children by exercising con- 
tinually the voluntary attention; for we have already 
seen that voluntary attention is the threshold of morality. 
Since we are all full of impulses, it is not difficult to see 
why the voluntary attention is so transitory; for one 
impulse pushes by another, and attention shifts. The 
fact is, however, momentary attention is all that we 
need ; for it takes but a moment to determine which 
of two or more impulses is more significant, if we really 
know at all. If not, the impulse to wait and decide 
later is with us. But if we follow one impulse after an- 
other, unable to hold them in check until we can discern 
which is most significant, then our will is still impulsive, 
still primitive, still unreliable. 

The child has but little power of voluntary attention, 
but it is very important that that little be increased and 
strengthened by exercise. Since the power to attend vol- 
untarily is the hope of morality, the teacher must not fail 
to continue to exercise the power to its full capacity ; and 
this means more sustained attention through the years. 
The child must be taught to pull back the flitting atten- 
tion, with new resolves to keep it in control ; and the 
mature student should be able to give his attention to 
what he wills. 

Principle. — Continual demands must be made on the 
voluntary attention of every student, increasing the time 
of sustained attention with the years of development. 



278 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

Teachers are at a continual loss to know how to assist 
students in their work, without weakening the student's 
will. We all meet tasks that are too much for us, and 
hence we all need assistance at times. Now, either too 
much or too little assistance weakens the will; the former, 
by taking away the opportunity of exercising the will; 
the latter, by defeating the will. The love of overcoming 
obstacles, the glow of mastery, is a necessary concomitant 
of a strong will ; and nothing so weakens us as continual 
defeat. When therefore the individual meets a task that 
is too much for him, all the assistance he needs is just 
enough to enable him to proceed ; that is, just enough to 
free his own efforts. Either more or less than this must 
prove disastrous to will. 

Principle. — In giving assistance to a student, give 
only enough to set free the student's own efforts. 

To illustrate this important law, suppose we take a 
child who is baffled in his attempt to find his error in a 
problem in multiplication. Suppose the child's work 
shows as follows : — 

3148 
76 



1 
23036 

249248 



METHODS 279 

The teacher could hardly be justified in working out 
the problem for the child ; but she runs through the prob- 
lem to locate the error, and she finds it in the last multi- 
plication. Remembering that a review, or second multi- 
plication, easily follows the habit partially established by 
the first effort, the teacher calls on the child to multiply 
through aloud by the seven tens. He so multiplies. Per- 
haps the effort aloud locates for the boy the long missing 
mistake; but if not, then the teacher asks, "How many 
did you have to add to the last product (pointing to the 
23) ? The child answers "one." "Go on, now," is the 
teacher's order. The boy proceeds, "Seven threes are 
twenty-one, and one is twen ty- three " (habit, clearly). 
"Twenty-one and one?" asks the teacher. "Twenty- 
two," is the reply. The boy looks with the usual dum- 
founded gaze, erases, and victoriously corrects. 

It will be noted that the teacher is here only guiding to 
the error. The child is working, and the teacher leads 
him to find his own error. When he finds it with such 
help, he is ready to proceed, uninjured. More assistance 
would have taken away the child's opportunity to win, 
and thus left him correspondingly weak; while less assist- 
ance probably would have added to the defeat. 

The teacher should not fail to note that the question is 
the fitting tool used here in giving assistance. It is 
commonly the very best means of giving wholesome assist- 
ance, for the reason that it may succeed in giving a legiti- 



280 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

mate minimum, and yet requiring a legitimate maxi- 
mum. 

Principle. — The question is an efficient tool for giving 
assistance that is needed, for the reason that it may be 
made to give a legitimate minimum, and yet require a 
legitimate maximum. 



CHAPTER VII 

PROFESSIONAL CRITICISM 

We started out in this book by stating that the aim of 
education is to direct the child's experience to the end 
of making him able and willing to realize the values of 
life. We have now worked out the detailed analysis of 
this aim by showing (i) what the values of life are, (2) 
that experience is the only cue to life values, (3) 
that the manifold experiences which the race has 
treasured up, in the belief that they are the best means 
of realizing the aim of education, are represented 
by the course of study, and (4) what each subject 
of the course of study is expected to do in realizing the 
aim of education. Having therefore determined what 
we would do for the child, in the hope of realizing our 
aim, our next problem was the serious one of getting hold 
of the child's will in order to induce him to receive the ex- 
periences represented by the course of study. We have 
shown (5) that the only motive of mind is interest, (6) 
that the immediate basis of all interest is use, and that 
ultimately all interest is based on the native impulses, the 
instincts. We have shown (7) what the native impulses 

281 



282 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

of the human being are, and (8) that the teacher is the 
mighty influence which manipulates the impulses of the 
child in order to get him to receive the experiences which 
we believe will make him able and willing to realize the 
values of life. Next we took up (9) the formal aspects, or 
methods, of giving the experiences, ending with (10) the 
methods of dealing with the child will, the real child which 
we aim to make able and willing to realize the life values. 
Having therefore finished the task of working out the 
intricate process of education, we turn now to the im- 
portant matter of judging the efficiency of any effort to 
carry out the process ; that is, to professional criticism. 

The whole race is interested in the business of educa- 
tion, and a great army of specialists is kept constantly at 
work. As teaching experience grows, the law of varying 
concomitants is at work upon it; and far-reaching general 
notions, principles of teaching, are thus being isolated and 
established. When we have established a principle of 
teaching, that principle becomes at once a standard for 
judging teaching efforts. This is the great function of 
the principle. If a principle is restated, essentially in 
the second person, so as to guide directly in doing things, 
it becomes a rule. To illustrate, the statement " Inter- 
est is a feeling of the usefulness of objects' ' is a principle ; 
and by it we can judge the efforts to create interest. 
Restated " to create interest in an object, reveal its use in 
reaching a desired end," it becomes a rule for proceeding 



PROFESSIONAL CRITICISM 283 

to create interest. Summarizing, we have essentially the 
law advanced by Dewey, — 

Principle. — Rules are practical ; they are statements 
of ways of doing things : principles are intellectual ; 
they are formulated standards of judging things. 

It is now evident that any criticism worth the name 
must be founded on principle; and that until one is 
armed with the principles governing a given process, one 
is hardly competent to judge that process. Any subject 
matter becomes science, when it is reduced to principles ; 
and we therefore have a science of education just in the 
degree that we have established principles of education. 
Teaching is a progressive art in the degree that it is 
guided by such principles. 

Principle. — Criticism, pedagogically considered, is 
judging school work in terms of principles of education. 

Any general notion, any principle, covers its given field 
of experience only to date. Wider experience is ever 
likely to change any general notion, hence a principle can 
hardly represent absolute truth ; indeed, absolute truth 
is hardly known to man. It is therefore evident that 
the teacher who is to move forward professionally must 
adapt herself to progressive changes in the theory of 
teaching. 

Principle. — Principles can hardly represent absolute 
truth ; hence the progressive teacher adapts her methods 
to progressive changes in the theory of teaching. 



284 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

The term "theory" is here used in the scientific sense. 
No teacher should fear the word " theory," when used in 
this sense. The untrained teacher easily comes to look 
upon theory as a mass of hazy visions, not yet adapted to 
the real work of teaching. Scientifically, theory means 
the what, the why, and the how of doing things. We 
must have theory in any process. The baker bakes bread 
according to theory, the physician works according to 
theory, and we all eat and sleep and work and live accord- 
ing to theory. Scientific theory is the essence of human 
experience, and we must value it. Briefly told, our 
theory is the ideal toward which we are striving; and 
since our practice is never quite up to our ideals, it is true 
that theory is always in advance of practice. 

Principle. — Educational theory is the what, the why, 
and the how of teaching ; and it is always in advance of 
practice. 

The moment one begins to talk of educational theory, 
many teachers think of psychology. Many a worthy 
teacher has fallen into what James calls a "bad con- 
science," because she is a poor psychologist. The fact is, 
psychology is quite overrated just now, and the teaching 
profession is expecting too much from it. There is a little 
psychology that is of immense value to teachers; and 
there is much psychology that is of little or no value to 
teachers. The real value of psychology in teaching lies 
in the fact that it reveals how experience acts in securing 



PROFESSIONAL CRITICISM 285 

efficiency. In so far as it does this, it serves as a standard 
of judging methods of handling experience. 

Principle. — Psychology is a valuable ally of pedagogy 
in so far as it reveals the ways in which experience acts to 
secure efficiency, and thus serves as a basis of judging 
the validity of methods of dealing with experience. 

Let the psychologists proceed with their study of 
consciousness. Let them discover and hand over to the 
teaching profession just as many valid laws of dealing 
with experience as they can ; for the teaching profession 
can take up these laws and enrich them with its own 
teaching experience, and apply them to education faster 
than the psychologists can derive them. 
, — The most serious work in educational theory to-day is 
the effort to reduce teaching experience to sound prin- 
ciples. When such principles have been established, the 
teacher should strive to command them, not mechanically, 
but vitally ; for her teaching should be based upon them. 
When teachers have learned to think school work in 
terms of sound principles of education, the day of fads 
and of cheap devices will be at an end. When that day 
has arrived, the teacher will be ready to view a new 
method critically ; that is, in terms of educational prin- 
ciples, before accepting or rejecting it. Progress is 
change, but enduring change; and such change is wel- 
comed by the teacher who is dynamic rather than 
static. 



286 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION 

Principle. — The teacher should be ready to view a 
new method critically, before either accepting or reject- 
ing it. 

It now appears that one who is to supervise teaching 
must be especially skillful in thinking school work in 
terms of principles. The supervisor must be able to 
elevate teachers with her superior insight and unifying 
influence. The supervisor is thus a teacher of teachers, 
an influencer of influencers, and her educative influence 
is raised to a mighty power. We must concede that we 
have some individuals in the teaching profession who 
ought not to be there, and they need their sad deficiencies 
pointed out in ways that will eliminate such teachers 
themselves ; but the truth is also evident that we have a 
great army of worthy, sensible, and ambitious men and 
women who need to be assisted in animating ways. 
The law of assistance holds here. Whatever else the 
supervisor does, she is not to leave the worthy teacher 
devitalized. The teaching spirit is too valuable to be 
trampled upon. A supervisor's value may easily fall 
below zero through lack of sympathy, influence. When 
she has found a deficient school value, she must point it 
out to the teacher in a hopeful and sympathetic way. 
When the deficient value is located, it is the supervisor's 
duty to see that the means of reconstruction are at hand. 
Again we must cite the law of assistance, for we cannot 
afford to have the teacher weakened. The supervisor 



PROFESSIONAL CRITICISM 287 

may suggest the lines of reconstruction, and leave the 
competent teacher to create her own procedure ; or she 
may find it necessary to work with the teacher in creating 
her procedure. 

Principle. — The supervisor's criticism should vitalize 
and not devitalize the teacher, by revealing deficient 
values, and, if necessary, by indicating the means by 
which the teacher may reconstruct and create her own 
procedure. 

The supervisor's work should be evolutionary, rather 
than revolutionary. A thousand wrongs may be in 
sight ; if so, a thousand wrongs are to be righted. Per- 
chance the teacher is not incompetent, but the com- 
munity backward, and a thousand outer causes in the 
way. Indeed, the teacher and the school may be doing 
well, relatively speaking; yet when measured by abso- 
lute standards, the situation may be discouraging, and 
seem to call for revolutionary means. So, too, it is not 
often justice to measure two teachers by the same stand- 
ard, but each is to be measured by a relative standard ; 
that is, by comparing the present conditions with the im- 
provement made, or that could reasonably be expected 
to have been made under the existing conditions. The 
teacher's point of view is to be seen along with others, and 
total conditions taken into consideration. 

Principle. — The supervisor should apply relative 
rather than absolute standards. 



288 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 

In any criticism, the critic should see the strong as well 
as the weak features of the work. Appreciative criticism 
makes a good introduction for the negative to follow, and 
the teacher needs to have her strength revealed, as well as 
her deficiencies. It is often well for the critic to close 
her eyes to some deficiencies. Too much criticism dis- 
courages any teacher ; hence it may often be well for the 
criticism to deal, not with many, but with the most sig- 
nificant features. It is hard to think of a piece of school 
work so poorly done that nothing favorable may be said 
of it ; and with young teachers, especially, appreciative 
criticism wins the feelings that are easily wounded by the 
negative criticism. The criticism should be honest, sym- 
pathetic, and hopeful, with a reasonable commingling of 
appreciation, negation, and construction. 

Principle. — The significant features of school work, 
both appreciative and negative, should first be criticized ; 
and criticism should be given in accordance with the law 
of assistance. 

We all know how easy it is to be disturbed when any one 
comes in to see our work. The more competent we think 
the critic, the more we are likely to be disturbed. Now 
the fact is, the more competent the critic, the more ready 
she is to understand the teacher's situation, and to see the 
teacher's side of things. Good criticism is not so hard 
to bear as unreasonable and incompetent criticism. In 
any case, the teacher should agree with the criticism if it 



PROFESSIONAL CRITICISM 289 

is just; and the feeling of sympathy between the teacher 
and the critic is a unity that both should seek. Both are 
laboring for one end; and disharmony is destructive. No 
teaching force is at its best until it works in unity. 

Nowhere in the world is there a more worthy work 
than that of a school force working in unity for the unity 
of the race. Teachers should feel the beauty, the value, 
and the sacredness of their mission. The value of the 
product, the worth of the aim of education realized, is the 
real inspiration, the real ground of dignity, the real pay. 
A deeper insight into the principles underlying our art 
will increase that pay ; and along with a better under- 
standing of our art, will come a closer fellowship, a richer 
experience, a better race, and a happier day. 



INDEX 



Abiding Realities, 231. 
Abstractions of Arithmetic, 67. 
Aim of Education, 1. 
Alphabet Method, 49. 
Analogy of Feeling, 45. 
Anger, 104. 
Apperception, 188. 
Application, 253. 
Arithmetic, 62. 
Attention, 79. 



B 



Bean Bag Game, 150. 

Beginning Point of Instruction, 5. 

Biological Law of Assistance, 268. 

Biological Studies, 22. 

Books, Value of, 13- 

"Born Liars," 228. 

Botany, 22. 



Causal Factor in Geography, 20. 
Classic Literature, 33. 
Cleanliness, 127. 
Collecting Instinct, 122. 
Communication, 86. 
Comparison, 251. 
Composition, 43. 
Concrete in Arithmetic, 67. 
Conscious Activity, 137. 
Construction, 93. 
Conventional Symbols, 41. 
Corporal Punishment, 181. 
Course of Study, 10. 
Cramming, 205. 
Criticism, 281. 
Curiosity, 97. 



Decaying Memory, 208. 
Deduction, 234, 243, 256, 261. 
Definitions, Formal, 149, 217. 
Destruction of School Influence, 173, 

242. 
Development Method, 241, 242. 
Diminishing Returns in Writing, 59. 
Disciplinary Ability, 276. 
Discipline, 179. 
Dramatization, 52. 
Drills, 148. 
Drudgery, 138. 
Drunkenness Cure, 125. 



Emancipation of Self, 96. 

Emotion, Function of, 95. 

Emotion, Training of, 271. 

Emulation, 112. 

Envy, 112. 

Experience defined, 3. 

Experimentation, 89. 

Exploration, 90. 

Expression, 88. 

Expulsion from School, 186. 

Eye Movements in Reading, 50. 



Fairy Story and Myth, 225. 
Fear, 106. 
Forgetfulness, 207. 
Formal Steps, 248. 
Formal Studies, 40. 
Formal Studies, Limits of, 12. 
Forms of Development, 243. 
Forms of Instruction, 236. 
Freedom of Child, 169. 



291 



292 



INDEX 



Function of School, 7. 
Fundamental Law of Mind, 233. 



Game, The, 145. 
Games, Sources of, 157. 
Generalization, 252. 
Geography, 18. 
Grammar, 45. 
Grammar Value, 46. 
Guessing Game, 153. 

H 

History, 25. 
History Steps, 28. 
History Value, 27. 
Hunger and Thirst, 124. 
Hunting, 122. 

I 



[91, 240. 



Ideals of Life, 31. 

Illustrative Method, 

Imagination, 210. 

Imagination Value, 212. 

Imaginative Elements in Games, 156. 

Imitation, 103. 

Impression and Expression, 78. 

Independence, 117. 

Individuality in Writing, 55. 

Induction, 234, 243, 244, 260. 

Influence, 162. 

Influence, Sources of, 166. 

Informal Method, 264. 

Inhibition, 273. 

Instincts, 84. 

Instincts, Origin of, 119. 

Institutionalized Child, 170. 

Interest, 81. 

Interest, Value of, 160. 

Interest as Recall Basis, 201. 

Interest Bases, 84. 

Interest in Old and New, 99. 

Interfunctioning, 18. 



Jealousy, 112. 



J 



Laboratory Method, 192, 241. 
Language, 41. 



Language Aim, 42. 

Language Habits, 47. 

Law of Assistance, 278. 

Law of Habit Formation, 273. 

Law of Memorization, 210. 

Law of Suggestion, 275. 

Law of Varying Concomitants, 215. 

Lecture Method, 238. 

Left-handed Child, 59. 

Legibility in Writing 54. 

Lesson Assignment, 254. 

Lesson Problem, 249. 

Literature, 31. 

Literature Value, 33. 

Logical Presentation, 251. 

Love, 109. 

M 

Manipulation, 91. 

Manual Training, 93. 

Meaning, 188. 

Memory, 196, 207, 212. 

Memory Value, 212. 

Mental Activity, 114. 

Mental Types, 194. 

Methods, 187. 

Mind Revelation, 17. 

Modesty, 127. 

Monotony, 147. 

Morality, 111. 

Morals of Literature, 39. 

Moral Value of Games, 145. 

Moral Will, 112, 180, 271. 

Motivating Process, 130. 

Motivating Process, Steps in, 133. 

Motivation, 76. 

Motive for Child, 142. 

N 

Native Retentivity, 208. 
Nature Study, 17. 

O 

Obedience, 173. 
Objective Method, 189. 
Obsolete Arithmetic, 64. 
Overcriticism, 168. 
Ownership, 94. 



INDEX 



293 



Physical Activity, 114. 

Physiology, 23. 

Play, 99. 

Play, Utilization of, 137 • 

Poetry, 32. 

Preparation, 248. 

Presentation, 249. 

Primacy in Recall, 199, 206. 

Primary Ideas, 190. 

Primary Reading, 49. 

Private Reproof, 185. 

Progressive Practice, 283. 

Psychological Presentation, 251. 

Psychology in Relation to Pedagogy , 

285. 
Pugnacity, 112. 
Punishment, 178. 



Questioning, 254. 



R 



Reading 48. 

Reading Aims, 48, 52. 

Reading Unit, 50. 

Reasoning, 233. 

Recall, Bases of, 199. 

Recency in Recall, 200, 206. 

Reception and Reaction, 78. 

Reference, 139. 

Reflex and Instinct, 130. 

Reflexes, 85. 

Repetition, 201. 

Respect for Work, 174. 

Reverence, 118. 

Ring Toss Game, 152. 

Rivalry, 100. 

Rules and Principles, 283. 



School Reforms, 176. 
Secretiveness, 101. 
Sensuous Impulses, 126. 
Shyness, 121. 
Simplified Spelling, 74. 
Sleep, 116. 
Sociability, 109. 



Social Feelings, in. 

Social Studies, 25. 

Source of Ideas, 16. 

Spelling, 68. 

Spelling Book, 72. 

Stock of Ideas, 204. 

Subject Matter and Method, 14. 

Subjects of Study Defined, n. 

Supervisors, 286. 

Sympathy, 109. 



Tale of Two Brothers, 35. 

Telling Method, 237. 

Textbook Method, 239. 

Theft, 96. 

Theory, 284. 

Thinking, 233. 

Thinking as Memory Key, 203. 

Touch-the-Table Game, 154. 

Truancy, 91. 

Types of Experience, 4. 

U 

Unity of Class Attention, 161. 
Unity of Home and School, 172, 175. 
Unity of Speech, 43. 
Universal Interests, 270. 
Usefulness, 81. 



Value of Experience, 8. 
Values of Life, 1. 
Vanity, 107. 

Vocabularies of Child, 69. 
Voluntary Attention, 272. 

W 

Will and Voluntary Attention, 276. 

Will Training, 266. 

Work, 137. 

Writing, 53. 

Writing Aims, 54. 

Writing Slant, 57. 

Writing Speed, 57. 



Zoology, 23. 



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